A Vistor in Asgard
by PhysicNightmare
Summary: Beautiful. Her sneakers squeaked ever so slightly on the perfectly polished floors. She gazed in astonishment at the marbled pillars, the tapestries, the arched windows. Everything was inlaid with gold and silver and other precious metals, gleaming in the rosy glow of the setting sun. She had no idea where she was. [DARK THEMES]
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! I hope you enjoy this story. There is no slut in this.**

Beautiful. Her sneakers squeaked ever so slightly on the perfectly polished floors. She gazed in astonishment at the marbled pillars, the tapestries, the arched windows. Everything was inlaid with gold and silver and other precious metals, gleaming in the rosy glow of the setting sun. She had no idea where she was.

"You there!" a voice barked, deep and low and commanding. The girl halted in her tracks and whirled around to see a flash of red blue and silver before a large metal object stopped just short of her face. Upon closer inspection it was a large, square hammer, and it was wielded by a very tall, very muscular golden-haired man. The red was his cape; the blue his pants; the silver his armor. Deep blue eyes narrowed at her.

"Who are you and how have you come to walk the halls of Asgard!" he bellowed. "Answer quickly and wisely mortal!"

Her mouth dropped open. Asgard? Then this must be…

"Thor!" Another voice entered the fray, this one soft and melodic, with the tones of a British turned her gaze to another tall figure in armor of black, gold, and deep green. He wore a golden helmet with tall, gracefully sweeping horns. Icy blue-green eyes smiled upon her before turning back to the other man. He was pale and clean shaven in contrast to the Thor's ruddy, bearded face.

"Brother, you're terrifying her," he said softly, laying a hand on Thor's outstretched arm in an attempt to lower it.

"Loki, this mortal woman has somehow gotten past Heimdall's watch," Thor growled, glaring suspiciously at her.

"Yes," Loki agreed quickly, "mortal woman, Thor; in other words completely harmless to any of us should she try to challenge us, which," he added, looking the woman up and down, "without a weapon would be incredibly foolish of her."

Thor glanced sideways at him, gritting his teeth.

"Put Mjolnir down, brother. Please." Loki gazed unflinching into Thor's eyes until the bigger man finally lowered his arm. The girl realized that she had been holding her breath and released it. Loki smiled. It was a rather dazzling smile.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He gently prodded Thor on the arm before turning to her and removing his helmet, revealing immaculately styled, shoulder length black hair. He dipped his head in a polite bow. "I am sorry if my brother frightened you. I am Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard. This is Thor Odinson, also a Prince of Asgard. And you are?"

"My names Octavia" She awkwardly replied, and held out a hand for a handshake.

Loki took Octavia's hand in his and lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. His skin and breath were oddly cool.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Lady," he murmured. Octavia found herself captivated by the mischievous sparkle in his blue-green eyes.

"Pleased to meet you too," She mumbled shyly, blushing under his gaze. He chuckled.

"Well then," he said, his emerald eyes twinkling, and released your hand, straightening up to his full height, "I welcome you to Asgard." Octavia smiled in spite of herself.

"Thank you." She attempted a curtsy, which in retrospect was ridiculous considering she was not wearing a dress.

"Brother, I would have a word with you," Thor said suddenly, clamping a hand on Loki's shoulder.

"Of course," Loki replied brightly. Octavia detected a hint of sarcasm in his overly cheerful tone. They moved away, and she tried not to eavesdrop.

"Loki, this is madness," Thor was saying. "If one human could steal into our realm, who is to say there aren't hundreds? This must be reported to Father and dealt with immediately!"

"Then you report it to Father," Loki replied calmly, "although I personally do not see the threat. What is one human to us, or a hundred? We are Asgardian's, Thor. Mortals cannot harm us."

"Mortals perhaps, but if there is a way for humans to enter unnoticed, then what else may enter our realm?" Thor turned with a swish of his cape. "I am going to speak to Father."

"Excellent!" Loki called after him. "And you may tell the Allfather that the human is under my watch. If she is a threat, I will dispose of her."

These words made her blood run cold. The fear was short-lived, however as Loki turned on his heel, smiling at Octavia once more.

"My apologies if I alarmed you," he said softly, approaching her again. "A mortal in Asgard is a very odd occurrence indeed. Almost makes one question if she was intentionally brought here." At this he raised a dark brow at her and smiled. Then he extended an arm. "Well, shall we?"

She looked at his arm, rather perplexed.

"Shall we what?" Octavia asked, awkwardly taking it, the leather of his armor smooth beneath your fingertips.

"Well, I see no reason to remaining standing here in this hall, and as you are now my charge, I thought I would take you on a bit of a tour." Loki cast a sideways glance at her that made her cheeks flush. He was shockingly handsome. Octavia merely nodded, and the two of you set off.

Loki took longer strides than her, being as how he stood at least a head taller, and Octavia found herself struggling to keep pace with him. He showed you many rooms and halls, each one more magnificent than the last, until finally they stopped outside of a set of golden doors. He turned to her.

"Beyond these doors is my chamber, where you will likely be staying as well, unless other accommodations are made." He smiled warmly at her. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Octavia blurted, perhaps a little too eagerly. He smirked and signaled for the guards to let her in.

His room was breathtaking. Not only was it enormous, but everything glistened with gold and silver. Black fur rugs adorned the floor, and a large four-poster bed stood in the center, hung with gauzy golden curtains and draped in deep green, silken blankets. Octavia gaped at the scene.

"This is easily the most gorgeous bedroom I have ever seen," Octavia admitted, laughing nervously.

"I see you're admiring the bed," Loki said, sliding a mischievous grin her way. "It's even more comfortable than it looks." Striding casually over to it, he smoothed a hand over the curtains. Octavia found herself merely drinking in the sight of him, feeling a strange surge of excitement deep in her stomach. There was something dark and dangerous about this prince.

Noticing her glance but not saying word, Loki laid his helmet on the bed and slid out of his cloak. Octavia watched with increasingly discomfort as he discarded a few more pieces of his armor until he was down to just a pair of black, leather, form-fitting pants and a soft, deep green tunic. Seeing her embarrassment he smiled and moved over to her. His movements were smooth and graceful, like a dancer.

Lifting a slender hand, he brushed a thumb over her cheek.

"Why so bashful?" he murmured softly. "If you react this way to me when I am still fully clothed, I am almost tempted to find out what you'd do if I removed my tunic."

Octavia's eyes widened and she bit her lip, heart thudding.

"Please don't," she managed to choke out in a trembling voice, while mentally cursing her hormones.

"Or what?" Loki whispered, this time brushing the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. Cupping her chin in his fingers, he leaned down suddenly and paused mere centimeters from her lips. She held her breath, staring into his pale, piercing eyes and feeling a hot flush creeping into her cheeks.

He chuckled softly at her shocked expression. "I know I'm cruel, but you really shouldn't make it so easy." Thankfully, he let his hand drop to his side and stepped back. "Those garments are interesting, but they will attract far too much unwanted attention, I'm afraid," he mused, resting a finger ponderously to his lower lip and appraising your jeans and t-shirt. "I shall have to see if we can find some more suitable attire."

Almost on queue, there came a knock on the door. At Loki's invitation, a blonde-haired servant girl poked her head into the chamber. She looked momentarily stunned speechless when her eyes fell upon Octavia, but she quickly recovered.

"My lord, the Allfather wishes for an audience with you immediately," she said shyly, gazing up at Loki through long, pale lashes. "He asks that you bring the mortal."

"Immediately?" Loki repeated with a flash of annoyance on his features. "That hardly gives any time to prepare her. Or would you think it wise to present her to my father dressed as such?"

The servant girl merely shrugged, staring at her jeans with mild curiosity.

"You are approximately the same size as her, are you not?" Loki continued, moving forward to take the bewildered girl by the arm and looking between the two of them, as if measuring with his eyes.

"I would think so, my lord," the girl whispered, her eyes widening as she realized his intent. "But my lord…"

"Excellent," Loki interrupted. "Then you will trade clothing, at least for an hour." He gave you both a sharp look. "I will be waiting in the hall." Pulling open the door, he left them both alone.

Octavia stared at her, and she stared at Octavia.

"Well, this isn't awkward at all," Octavia mumbled sarcastically. She looked her over. The dress she wore was a relatively simple design with a pale blue skirt and a brown corset tied over a white, fluffy blouse. On her feet was a pair of tiny brown boots.

"My name is Deirdre," she offered softly as she began to untie her corset, obviously less embarrassed by the situation than Octavia was.

Octavia mumbled her name in return, pulling her t-shirt over her head and trying not to feel self-conscious. No more words were exchanged as she helped her into her dress and she showed her how to button her jeans. Loki had been wrong; she was a little smaller than Octavia. Luckily the corset could be loosened. A knock startled Octavia and she tied up the boots.

"Are you almost finished?" Loki's voice drifted through the door.

"Yes, we're quite ready," Deirdre called back. Loki opened the door and beckoned Octavia out.

"You will stay here until we return," he ordered Deirdre, who looked mildly distraught but nodded in compliance. Turning to Octavia, he reached out a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Your hair is very soft," he commented, causing her to avert her gaze, blushing.

"Thank you." Octavia took the arm he extended and followed him down the halls once more; trying not to focus on how one boot was tied tighter than the other.


	2. The AllFather

Finally Octavia and Loki stopped outside of what she assumed to be the throne room. Loki held her back with an outstretched hand.

"When we enter, you are to kneel before the Allfather and place your right fist over your breast, like so," he explained, demonstrating. "You may rise only when he gives the command."

Octavia nodded, feeling slightly nauseous as she realized whom she was about to see face to face. Loki gave her one last glance before squaring his shoulders and marching through the door with Octavia on his heels.

Odin sat on a large, immaculately designed golden throne, his famous golden spear, Gungnir, in his fist. His armor sparkled like the sun and a large horned helmet, not unlike Loki's, sat on his head. A patch covered his right eye, and he absently stroked his silver beard as Octavia and Loki dropped to there knees. Thor stood to the right of the throne, and a tall, slender woman with long brown curls stood to the left of it, one hand on Odin's shoulder.

"Loki, my son," Odin greeted, giving a nod. Then his remaining eye fell upon Octavia, and she felt terror rise in her chest and averted your gaze. His power was unmistakable, even in his old age. "Child of Midgard," he said, his voice softening slightly as if he had picked up on your fear. "You may rise."

With the help of Loki's steadying hand, she stood up on trembling knees. The Allfather rose as well, keeping his gaze focused on her and his youngest son. The woman smiled at her.

"Thor has informed me that you were found wandering the halls of Asgard alone," Odin said, slowly making his way down the steps leading up to the throne. "How were you able to enter our realm, and without the knowledge of my most trusted sentry and guardian of the Bi-Frost, Heimdall?" Odin stopped in front of Octavia, and she could see that he was as tall as his sons.

"I don't know," Octavia answered honestly, trying to keep her voice from shaking. In truth she had no memory of her arrival in Asgard. It was as if she had awoken from a deep sleep when she had found herself walking between the columns. Octavia explained this to Odin, watching his face for signs of disbelief, but it remained emotionless.

"I see," he replied simply.

"It is not often a creature of any sort enters Asgard, and when it does happen, powerful magic is usually involved," a soft voice cut in. Octavia was surprised to see that the woman had moved up behind Odin and was watching her with interested eyes. Upon closer inspection Octavia could see that although she was very beautiful, she was not a young woman.

"Frigga," Odin addressed the woman over his shoulder, causing her to fall silent. Of course, she was his wife.

"Are you versed in the ways of magic and sorcery, child?" Odin asked softly. Octavia shook her head, giving a no.

"Forgive me, Allfather, but are you seriously going to take her word as truth?" Thor cut in, moving forward and indicating Octavia with his hammer.

"Be still, Thor!" Odin commanded sharply, and Thor paused, but only momentarily, blue eyes flashing indignantly.

"Ask her whose magic aided her!" the blond-haired warrior demanded, ignoring his father's warning glare and his mother's tentative hand laid on his arm. Octavia looked up at Loki, whose face remained expressionless through all of this, though his eyes were bright and watchful. He caught her gaze and the corner of his mouth twitched in what appeared to be mild amusement.

Odin hissed through his teeth in annoyance at his eldest son's lack of manners but looked to Octavia for a reply to Thor's question.

"I don't know," Octavia replied again, shifting her weight uncomfortably and beginning to feel rather miserable under the suspicious scrutiny of Thor. "I promise that all I know I have already told you." She hoped her tone hadn't come across as too whiny.

Frigga gave her a sympathetic glance, and approached her husband once more.

"Odin," she whispered quietly, but not so quiet that Octavia couldn't hear what she said next. "You heard Thor, Loki intends to keep her under his watch. If anything should go wrong I am sure he will take care of it promptly."

Odin gave her a sharp look, and then sighed in defeat.

"Very well," he addressed Octavia and Loki, "I shall decide to trust your word unless proven otherwise. Loki, I place her under your control and protection. Do what you deem to be wisest. As for the breach in our security, I shall discuss with Heimdall how the realm may be better protected against mysterious intruders hereafter." He gave a nod to end his statement, and brought the base of his spear to the floor with a resounding boom that seemed to echo through the entire realm. "You are dismissed." He turned and ascended to the throne once more, his wife at his arm. Octavia was not certain, but she thought she sensed a profound weariness from the powerful king.

Octavia looked to Thor, who was still watching her with suspicion etched in his rugged features. She tried an awkward smile, and were rather surprised when he returned it, if hesitantly.

Loki wasted no time in taking Octavia`s arm once more and leading her briskly from the throne room. She became aware that Thor had followed you both, but said nothing.

"My father seems to trust you, for now," Loki said, and she nodded, wondering where she was going so quickly when you nearly stumbled in the unfamiliar boots and realized that Deirdre was still waiting for her clothes back.

"I'm not dangerous," Octavia said, loudly enough that you knew Thor, who was attempting to stalk her stealthily through the halls, would hear her.

"Of course you're not," Loki laughed aloud. Then he halted in his tracks, turning abruptly and flinging out his staff which had just materialized in his hand, bringing its point just shy of Thor's shocked face. "If you're going to follow me in the shadows, brother, you might try not breathing so loudly."

Thor tried to look innocent, but soon gave up when he saw the smirk on Loki's face.

"I'm merely curious as to where you got the dress for her so quickly," Thor said, indicated Octavia's outfit. "There's no way in Valhalla that you had time to find a seamstress."

"Do you think me a fool, brother?" Loki responded with annoyance. "I know you did not follow me to discuss her clothing."

"All right, you got me." Thor grinned broadly. It looked much more attractive than the scowl Octavia was becoming accustomed to. "I cannot fool the master, can I?"

Loki sighed heavily.

"Out with it Thor, we're in a rush."

Thor's smile vanished and he moved forward, pointing a threatening finger at his brother's chest.

"I know you were the one who used the magic to bring her here, Loki," he said, his deep voice dangerously soft. "I don't know to what end, but know this, brother." He looked briefly at Octavia, and then back at Loki, who didn't even flinch. "I'm keeping a close watch on you. You will not make a fool of us this time, prankster."

Loki's eyes widened in an expression of one deeply wounded.

"Brother, I cannot believe you'd suspect me of such a thing," he practically choked. "I know I am one known for my tricks, but to smuggle an outsider, a mortal, into Asgard would be breaking one of our father's most sacred rules! Surely you do not think me that desperate for attention that I would blatantly disrespect the Allfather's authority?" Loki's eyes glistened, pleading with his brother.

Thor fell silent, and reddened slightly in shame.

"No, I suppose not," he grumbled. "My apologies, Loki, for not trusting you."

Loki smiled sadly.

"All is forgiven, Thor," he said softly. "I understand I haven't made the best reputation for myself, but I intend to remedy that." He reached up a hand and placed it affectionately on his elder brother's broad shoulder. "Perhaps sooner than later."

Thor smiled back, mirroring the gesture.

"I'm glad to hear it, Loki." The blond warrior glanced at Octavia. "It is nearing suppertime. You should find her a dress of her own. A servant's attire is hardly fitting for the companion of a prince." Octavia felt her cheeks redden as she realized that as dense as Thor could be, even he had recognized the clothing. Poor Deirdre.


	3. The drunken drumstick

**A long chapter to make up for the long wait!**

Loki was indeed able to find a dress for Octavia, although she never did find out how. Octavia had been sitting with Deirdre on a couch in Loki's sleeping quarters, each of them in there own attire once more, Octavia trying to answer her endless questions about Midgard –(or Earth as she was familiar with it)- when Loki re-entered the room with a deep purple gown draped over his arm. A pair of tiny purple slippers was in his fist along with some feminine undergarments.

Octavia leapt to her feet, mouth dropping open at the beauty of the garment. Loki's mouth twitched in a smile and he tossed it and the undergarments to her and set the slippers on the floor.

"It's gorgeous!" Octavia exclaimed, positively beaming as she unfolded the dress to get a better look at it. It had long, loose sleeves, a square neckline, and a high waist with a white, cord belt wrapped around it. The neck and sleeves were embroidered with tiny white vines.

"It will look lovely on you, I'm sure." Loki smiled at her, and her cheeks heated. "Try it on." Octavia looked from him to Deirdre.

"I can't change in front of you!" Octavia practically squeaked. Loki chuckled.

"I won't look, I promise," he said, turning his back to her. Deirdre stepped forward.

"I can help, if you wish," she offered softly. Octavia merely nodded, still blushing, and began the process of undressing once more, wondering exactly how many times today she was going to have to disrobe in front of people. Loki kept his word, remaining facing the wall until she was fully clothed once more. The bodice of the dress fit like a second skin, the skirt hanging in soft folds down to her feet.

Loki gave a low whistle as he looked Octavia up and down.

"I was wrong, you don't look lovely, you look absolutely stunning," he observed, raising an appreciative brow. Deirdre moved behind her, scooping her hair into her hands as Octavia went positively crimson, quickly looking away from Loki's piercing gaze.

"May I suggest pinning up your hair?" she whispered in Octavia's ear. "It will look much better." Octavia nodded, still unable to meet Loki's gaze.

Deirdre pulled some pins from her own hair, letting her blonde tresses fall over her shoulders, and began to comb Octavia's hair with her fingers, working out some stubborn knots before taking some separate strands and beginning to twist and braid with quick, skilful hands. Her touch was so gentle that Octavia was beginning to feel sleepy when she finally announced that she was finished.

"Well, my Deirdre," Loki murmured, moving forward to toy with one of the strands that Deirdre had left to hang on either side of Octavia's face, "I must say you are good at what you do." His lips curved in a slow smile as she fidgeted nervously.

"Thank you, my lord," Deirdre breathed, giving a quick curtsey as a bell resounded suddenly.

"And that would be our queue to make our way to the banquet hall," Loki said, taking Octavia's arm in his. "Shall we?" Still red-faced, she nodded.

The banquet hall was as splendid as she imagined it would be, and simply enormous. There had to be at least a hundred people seated around the gigantic carved wooden table, but no one seemed crowded. More than a few faces turned her way with expressions of curiosity mingled with suspicion as Loki led her to the table where a spot was set out for her beside what she assumed was his chair, seeing as how it was upholstered with the same deep forest green that adorned most of his clothing.

Sending Octavia a reassuring smile, he pulled out her chair for her. Mumbling her thanks, Octavia took her seat, trying not to notice how the conversation around her seemed to cease as her arrival was noted.

"Loki." A dark-haired female nodded curtly at the prince, then fixed her chocolate brown eyes on Octavia. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and yet she held an aura of strength and fury that made Octavia think she was not to be trifled with. She wore armour of silver and a dark maroon, and her long hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail.

"Lady Sif." She thought Loki said her name with a hint of bitterness in his tone. Sif continued to stare at her until Octavia began to wonder if there was something on her face.

"Is this the human?" a soft male voice cut in with cultured tones. Octavia looked up to see a man with short blond hair swept to one side and a pointed goatee with a curled moustache. His armour was green and pale gold. He flashed Octavia a crooked grin and winked one blue eye. He was handsome, no doubt, and she were slightly taken aback by his forwardness. Sif dug a sharp elbow into his ribs, causing him to let out a painful yelp.

"Fandral!" she scolded. "At least attempt some decorum!"

"Staring could be considered rude as well, fair lady," Fandral quipped, having regained his composure and taken his seat next to the glaring brunette. He did, however, lean casually out of her reach, giving her elbow a wary glance. Sif's cheeks went slightly pink and she suddenly found something very interesting to stare at on the other side of the room.

"Arguing already?" A booming voice joined the murmur of conversation and an enormous hand fell on Fandral's shoulder. Octavia looked up to see the biggest man she had ever laid eyes on. He had to be almost seven feet tall and had a long, curly red beard and hair. His eyes crinkled with merriment. He wore red and silver armour, especially tailored to his rather large stomach.

"It's not as you think, Volstagg my friend," Fandral replied, giving the big man's hand a pat. "I was simply giving the newcomer a warm welcoming." Sif looked about to put her elbow to use again as Fandral shot Octavia another bold grin. Octavia felt Loki tense beside her and wondering what was eating him.

"Ah, I'm sure," Volstagg chuckled, giving Fandral a resounding slap on the shoulder and taking a seat beside him. Another man you had not previously noticed seated himself on the other side of Volstagg. He looked to be of Asian decent, with straight black hair pulled back in a warrior's ponytail. His armour was black and silver. He gave her a polite nod, his face remaining expressionless.

"Hogun!" Fandral exclaimed, leaning forward on the table to flash the Asian man a brilliant grin. "I must say, you look especially chipper today! Just look at that smile!"

Confused, Octavia looked to Hogun and back to Fandral. There was no trace of amusement on Hogun's face whatsoever. Sif's lips twitched in a slight smile and Volstagg let out a roar of laughter.

Loki let out a weary sigh.

"I realize it might be a bit of a challenge, but could you try to refrain from your usual mindless drivel tonight?" he droned, sounding utterly bored, fixing Fandral with a half-lidded gaze. "We have a guest."

"Noted," Fandral replied, losing some of the mirth in his tone as he met Loki's cold stare with his own. "Although I should think that the lady is able to speak for herself."

Embarrassed, Octavia wished she could slide under the table, but instead gave Loki a pointed glare and shifted away from him. He met her gaze with a look of complete indifference.

"What ails you?" Octavia couldn't believe he had the nerve to ask, after how rude he had just been to the others. Not even deigning to reply, she busied herself with tracing the carved edge of the table with her fingernail. Loki made a sound in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a snort and didn't say another word.

Sif cleared her throat, glancing around at the awkwardly silent group.

"Well that went well," she commented sarcastically. Then she looked at Octavia. "I'd like to say we're not usually like this, but that would be a lie." She actually smirked. "I am Sif, as you know, and these are the Warriors Three." She indicated Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun. "We are comrades to the princes, Thor and Loki." She looked at Loki as she said his name. "Well, most of the time."

"Yes and any friend of my brother's is a friend of mine." Octavia turned to see Thor standing behind her, and were astounded to see him actually smiling at her.

"Uh, thanks," Octavia replied, wondering what had brought about the sudden change in attitude. Thor took his seat on the other side of Loki to a chorus of cheerful greetings from Sif and the Warriors Three. Even Hogun almost smiled. Almost. It was easy to see which brother was more favoured, although after Loki's rude display she found herself inclined to take their side.

"So what is for dinner tonight?" Volstagg boomed, slapping his gut. "I'm famished!"

"Patience Volstagg, we must await the arrival of the Allfather and his queen," Sif addressed the big man, chuckling.

"I'm fairly sure you aren't going to waste away, my friend," Fandral joked, poking his large companion in the side and getting rewarded with another booming laugh.

Almost on queue, a chorus of trumpets rang out, and everyone rose from their seats, looking to one end of the hall. Odin entered, still clad in his golden armour with a long flowing cape of deep scarlet. He no longer wore his helmet. Frigga was at his side, her pale green gown sweeping the floor as she moved with him to the table.

"Hail Allfather," everyone said in unison, surprising her. Octavia looked around to see them placing their fists over their hearts, and she did the same. Odin smiled.

"As you were," he said, voice echoing through the hall. Everyone seated themselves again and chatter broke out once more. Frigga seated herself beside Thor, Odin at the head of the table. Octavia suddenly realized that her placement at the table was actually one of honour and blushed furiously, staring at her lap.

"And how are my subjects on this beautiful day?" the Allfather asked. A chorus of voices answered cheerfully, and Odin chuckled. "Good, good." His gaze fell upon Octavia and Loki. "As you can see, we have a rather special guest in our midst." With a wave of his hand, he indicated for her to stand. She did, feeling very small in the big hall. Loki stood as well, his hand brushing her back in a show of support. Still slightly aggravated with him, Octavia shifted her weight and leaned away from his touch. Voices murmured around the hall as the Asgardians gazed upon her as if she were some sort of exotic animal.

"She comes a long way from Midgard, and we welcome her warmly," Odin continued, looking around at his subjects. "I have placed her under the protection of my son Loki for the time being."

Immediately a roar of disbelief erupted around the great table. It took Odin two tries to regain everyone's attention. "I expect her to be treated with respect and dignity as befits the companion of a prince of Asgard." Again, whispers and stares. It was becoming increasingly obvious to Octavia that Odin's trust in his son was not shared by the general population. She began to feel a twinge of unease in her gut. What exactly had Loki done to cause so many to distrust him?

"Now, let us feast!" Odin waved his hands over the table before seating himself, and suddenly where there was once empty platters, there was now an enormous spread of more food than Octavia could ever have dreamt of. Some dishes she didn't even recognize. Large goblets had appeared at every place setting, filled with a golden brown liquid.

Volstagg wasted no time in filling his plate to overflowing with numerous different legs of meat. Thor did much the same. Loki grimaced at his brother's choice of meal and dished some fresh vegetables onto his own plate beside the side of lamb he had chosen. There was an awkward moment when he and Sif reached for the same platter at the same time. After staring at each other for a moment, he let Sif take it. Octavia was so busy trying to decide what to try first, the lamb or the boar, that she almost didn't hear Loki's question.

"I said do you prefer wine or mead?" he repeated, mildly annoyed at being ignored.

"Oh, uhm," Octavia look at the goblet. "I really don't know. I don't drink." Loki sighed, mumbling something about mortals, and waved a slender hand over her goblet. Instantly she noticed the contents shift in colour. Wide-eyed, she gaped at him.

"How did you do that?" Octavia asked. Loki smiled, almost shyly.

"Your people call it science, we call it magic," he replied. "Either way, you'll be pleased to know that your goblet is now filled with fruit juice. Non-alcoholic and perfectly harmless." He cleared his throat awkwardly and returned to his meal.

"Thank you," Octavia mumbled, a bit surprised at the act of kindness, and took a sip. The juice was very sweet. Eventually she decided on lamb and bravely tried a few spoonfuls of some of the less recognizable dishes. Everything was delicious.

It was indeed a feast, and even after Octavia had to admit to being too full to eat another bite, others continued to dig in. Loki pushed his plate away shortly after you did, and you both watched in silent amusement as Volstagg and Thor seemed to be having a bit of a competition. Fandral was on his umpteenth goblet of mead and was currently trying his charms on Sif, who did not look amused. Even Hogun chuckled when Sif gave Fandral a slap after a particularly bold comment.

Octavia was surprised when a hand brushed over hers which was resting on the table top. She looked up at Loki, who smiled down at her.

"If you wish, we may leave at any time." Something about the way his eyes fixed on hers made your heart skip a beat.

"Sure, okay," Octavia replied, biting her lip. His smile widened and he stood, not taking his hand from hers as he helped her to her feet.

"Retiring already, brother?" The question came from Thor around a mouthful of roast meat. Loki smirked at how ridiculous his brother looked at the moment.

"Yes, it's been a long day, for some of us more than others," Loki replied, casting Octavia a sideways glance. Almost by suggestion alone, she found herself suppressing a yawn.

"Well, I bid thee goodnight then!" Thor waved a drumstick, and Octavia couldn't help but giggle. Fandral even managed to wink and wave, although she was not certain whether he wasn't seeing double at this point. After a few more exchanged goodnights, Loki took her arm to lead her out of the hall. Neither of them were expecting Sif to appear by Octavia's side.

"Loki." She moved to block his path. "May I have a word with the Midgardian?" Octavia felt his grip on her arm tighten, but then he nodded and let go.

"I'll be outside," he murmured in her ear before sauntering away. Octavia tried not to watch him walk away, and instead shifted her attention to the tall brunette, giving her a curious glance.

"My apologies if I came across as rude earlier," she said, her voice sincere. Octavia found herself smiling at her. Despite her tough exterior and obvious dislike for Loki, she could see herself being good friends with the warrior maiden.

"It's all right; I understand why you'd be a little hesitant about me," Octavia say, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. Sif smiled, but her eyes remained watchful.

"It is not you I do not trust," she replied softly, glancing over her shoulder in the direction Loki had gone. "It's him."


	4. Roses

Octavia's POV

I glanced at the doors, knowing that Loki was likely wondering what was taking me so long. The feeling of uneasiness grew in my stomach as Lady Sif confirmed my suspicions.

"If you don't mind me asking, what did Loki do to destroy everyone's trust in him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice low. Sif crossed her arms and shook her head.

"I have already said too much," she said, her beautiful face a mask of stone. "It is not my place to speak of events past." She looked around herself. "I do not wish to be accused of turning you against the prince without just cause simply because of my own misgivings."

"Then why…" I was about to ask why she was bothering to talk to me at all, when she answered my unspoken question.

"I am only concerned for your wellbeing and the safety of the citizens of Asgard," she said, and suddenly moved close to whisper into my ear. "Promise me that if anything seems amiss, you will come to me immediately."

I gave her a doubtful glance, but nodded in agreement.

"Good." Sif's severe expression relaxed into a smile. "In that case I bid you goodnight. Sleep well." With that, she turned with a swish of her long ponytail and made her way back over to her comrades. Feeling incredibly nervous now, I meandered out of the hall and met Loki outside of the doors.

He greeted me with a stern glance and hurriedly began walking back along the corridors with me following. I wondered if he had guessed the subject of mine and Lady Sif's conversation.

"They don't trust me," he said suddenly. It wasn't a question. He knew. I glanced sideways at him, but his face was unreadable. "What did she tell you?" I swallowed hard as his eyes met mine.

"Nothing," I answered. "She just wished to know that I was finding my visit here to be enjoyable." It wasn't exactly a lie, and wasn't exactly the truth. Loki made a thoughtful noise in his throat but didn't press the subject. We walked in silence for a few more minutes, and a question began to gnaw at the back of my mind, one that I had been wondering about ever since my arrival in Asgard.

"Loki?" I ventured hesitantly.

"Hm?" He looked down at my, a faint smile playing on his lips. I cleared my throat, wondering exactly how to phrase the question without sounding accusatory.

"The queen said that it would take strong magic for a creature to enter the realm of Asgard unnoticed." I looked to Loki, but he didn't say anything, so I continued, staring at the floor as I walked. "I don't know any magic, so someone must have brought me here, right?"

"It would seem that way," Loki said testily. I got the impression that he didn't wish to talk about this and couldn't figure out why, but I had to know.

"Who could have brought me here, and for what reason?" This time you met his gaze without faltering. He stiffly shrugged.

"How am I to know?" he replied. "There are many in this realm that practice magic. It is quite common here, as you may have noticed."

"But don't you do magic too?"

Loki chuckled at my choice of wording.

"Indeed I do, my lady," he answered with a broad smile. "Would you care to see some?" He came to a sudden halt and turned on his heel to face me, taking me quite by surprise.

Before I could reply, he held out his left hand to me and gently rubbed his thumb and forefinger together until they began to emit a bright, blue glow. A sound like static electricity echoed from the stone walls as he lifted his fingers to his lips and gently whispered an incantation, causing sparks to ignite and fall, dissipating before they hit the floor.

All the while he never took his pale blue-green eyes off of me, and I watched in astonishment as he brought his other hand up and pulled from his fingertips a brightly glowing golden string. No, not a string, for upon further inspection I saw it was a flower stem, and from his closed fist he produced the perfect bulb of a rose.

As he waved slender, pale fingers over the bulb, it opened, the delicate golden petals unfolding and emitting a perfectly intoxicating fragrance. Slowly a pink blush began to creep over the petals, staining them and darkening, while a deep green crept up the stem until Loki held a perfectly formed crimson rose.

The trick had taken mere seconds, and yet I realized I was lightheaded from having held my breath through the whole thing. Loki grinned and bowed, holding out the flower to me. His eyes sparkled with amusement at my stunned expression.

"Take it, it won't poison you," he whispered. Tentatively, I reached out and grasped the stem in my fingertips. Loki's smile broadened as I brought the rose to my face, inhaling its perfume.

"It's lovely," I exclaimed, my voice cracking with a sudden rush of emotion. "Thank you." I had the sudden urge to run to Loki and throw my arms around him, but shyness took over and I merely stood rooted to the floor, blushing nearly as red as the flower I held.

"I've seen lovelier," Loki murmured, and extended an arm to me once more. Biting my lip, I took it and allowed him to continue escorting me through the palace. A memory tickled at the back of my mind of something that seemed to be important, but when I tried to focus on it, it was gone. Oh well.

**Not a chapter as long as I wanted it to be but anyway!... **

**I have a game! If you can guess who had brought Octavia to Asgard I will personality write the winner a story for them, even if its slutty, funny, hurtful... I don't care! I will write the winners plot down the way that they want it down! So get guessing! ****  
**


	5. Four poster bed

Loki brought Octavia back to his chambers, where she found Deirdre waiting for her outside of the door, clutching a small bundle tight to her chest. She glanced nervously at Loki before approaching her.

"Forgive me, but I was thinking about how you came here with nothing, and I thought perhaps you could use some spare clothing and accessories." She placed the bundle in Octavia's arms. "Some of the other maids and I gave what we could spare." She smiled shyly and gave a quick curtsy before hurrying away.

Astonished, Octavia called out a 'thank you', but she was not certain she had heard. Octavia looked to Loki, who smirked.

"Seems you have a new friend," he commented, pushing open the doors to his bedchamber and ushering her in. In Octavia's fist she still gently clutched the magic rose he had given to her, trying not to bend the stem. Loki moved to the wall where his armor was now neatly hung, arranged perfectly. He ran his fingertips over the glistening golden shoulder piece as Octavia looked around for a place to sit the bundle, finally deciding on the couch that she and Deirdre had sat upon earlier.

"Would you like a vase for the rose, my dear?" Loki asked without turning. Octavia felt a rush of heat to her face at the unexpected pet name and the sudden sweetness in his tone.

"Yes please," Octavia murmured, stroking the delicate petals and admiring the beauty of the flower once again, remembering the gentle blue glow of the magic that had forged it out of thin air. Suddenly Loki was in front of her, reaching out a slender hand to pluck the rose from her fingertips and place it in the shining crystal vase he held in his other hand. Octavia had no idea where he had gotten the vase from so quickly. Moving over, he placed the rose on a small wooden table by the couch.

Turning to face Octavia once more, he walked forward. She sucked in a sharp breath as he lifted his arm and brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. His fingertips were cold on her warm skin, and sent a shiver down her spine. His blue-green eyes locked onto Octavia's, the intensity of the gaze making her heart thud faster. She desperately wanted to look away, to hide the blush that she knew was creeping into her cheeks, but his gaze held her there; mesmerizing, hypnotizing.

Octavia studied the sharp curves of his cheekbones, the straight slope of his nose, the way his dark brows furrowed in concentration above his beautiful, yet strangely sorrowful eyes. He ran his tongue along his thin lips, as if preparing to say something, but faltered.

Finally he broke the spell, turning away so abruptly that Octavia nearly jumped.

"The hour grows late," he said in a voice oddly hoarse. "It is time we retire for the night." Octavia simply nodded, still feeling slightly dazed. Loki continued. "I will leave you now so that you may make whatever preparations that you require." He turned slightly, glancing at her over his shoulder, before moved toward the doors.

"Wait," Octavia cried out, a sudden realization dawning on her. "Where will I sleep?"

Loki turned with an expression of mild surprise on his features. He stared at her for a moment, and then she followed his glance as it slid to the large four-poster bed in the center of the room. His bed.

"You-you can't be s-serious," Octavia stammered, wide-eyed. She was certain she had never blushed so much in her life. Loki was not unaware of her discomfort, and a smile curved his lips, his eyes sparkling with an impish glint.

"Well, I am certain there is plenty of room for two," he replied, clearly enjoying Octavia's horrified reaction. "I promise you I am not a terrible bed-mate." With a positively wicked grin, he exited the chamber before she could fully process the implications of that sentence.

Shutting the door behind him, Loki let out a weary sigh and leaned a forearm against the wall, laying his head on his hand. The sparkle had faded from his eyes as quickly as it had come.

"Damn it," he hissed to himself. This was not a part of the plan; his very carefully thought-out, masterly crafted plan. Loki, the God of Mischief. "Well done," he murmured to himself. "It looks like you've out-tricked yourself this time, trickster."

He lifted his head and ran long, pale fingers through his shoulder-length, jet black hair, giving the closed door a scornful glance, although the mortal on the other side couldn't see it. Damn her to Hel.

Loki clenched his fists, resisting the urge to punch the wall. He could still feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, still see the pink blush coloring her lovely face. And her eyes like two precious jewels. No, not jewels, but mirrors, mirrors that showed him a side of himself he never realized before. A side of himself he didn't want to realize.

A soft voice from inside his chambers broke his reverie.

Octavia had found a lovely white nightgown among the bundle that Deirdre had given her and awkwardly shrugged out of her dress to put it on. She was also pleased to find a beautifully crafted brush and comb that appeared to be made of silver, a tiny hand-held mirror, and a crystal decanter of some floral scented perfume. There were tiny soaps and many other items as well. Octavia found herself wondering who exactly they were from, and whether she should send back a 'thank you' note of some sort.

There was no deodorant, so she resolved to gently dab some perfume on her underarms instead and hoped that the scent wasn't too overpowering. After She was clothed and had let her hair down once more, she shyly approached the door.

"Loki? You can come back in now," Octavia called out, hoping he could hear her. Apparently he had, for he opened the door a moment later. For a split second she caught a glimpse of a sort of bitterness in his eyes, and it confused her, but he smiled once more and Octavia thought perhaps she had imagined it after all.

"You look lovely even in a nightgown," he commented softly. Octavia blushed.

"Thank you," She mumbled, feeling a bit self-conscious. "By the way, there wouldn't happen to be a bathroom I could use, would there?" Octavia felt silly asking, but when nature calls…

"A what?" Loki looked thoroughly baffled. She almost giggled.

"You know a place to um…" She paused, unsure of how to word it without embarrassing herself. "A place to do your business." Loki still showed absolutely no signs of comprehending her meaning. Octavia sighed heavily, resisting the urge to face-palm. "I need to pee."

The "bathroom" was a large room attached to Loki's chamber by a door that she hadn't noticed previously. It was quite different that what she was used to. They certainly had a toilet of sorts, but it didn't flush. Instead, everything was done by magic.

Octavia washed her hands in a silver basin of water and caught a glimpse of herself in the large, oval mirror that hung beside the simply enormous, claw-footed bathtub. She looked wide-eyed and nervous, and her cheeks were pinker than usual. She refused to admit the reason for that and let herself out of the bathroom.

Octavia was not expecting the sight that met her next. Letting out a squeak, she slapped her hands over your eyes. Loki was completely nude and was standing nonchalantly by the couch, examining the tiny soaps that had been gifted to her. Octavia's eyes might be covered, but her ears still heard his low chuckle.

"Your bashfulness never ceases to amuse me, darling," he murmured, and she felt rather than saw him cross the room towards her. Her cheeks were so hot she was worried they would burn her palms.

"You could have warned me," She whined when she finally got her voice back. Loki laughed again.

"And miss your priceless reaction?"

She heard the sound of shifting fabric, but didn't dare peek.

"You're terrible."

"Just a bit of fun, really," he chuckled. "By the way, you can look now, I'm covered."

Taking a deep breath, Octavia stole a look through her fingers. Loki was now sitting in bed, propped up against one of the enormous fluffy pillows. He had the sheets pulled up so that they lay casually over his lap, covering enough of him to preserve her innocence –(because he surely didn't have any)- but revealing enough that she had to force herself to look away before she was caught staring.

Not before she had gotten enough of a glimpse of him to fuel her raging hormones, however. His torso was slender yet muscled, not overly so but just enough to make her fingers itch to trace the outlines of his abs. His creamy, pale skin was flawless, his abdomen hairless aside from the line of dark curls that trailed downward from his navel to somewhere beneath the folds of the blanket. Octavia refused to let her mind consider anything further than that.

It couldn't be denied. This prince was smoking hot. And Octavia were expected to share a bed with him?

Loki seemed to guess her thoughts, for he laughed softly.

"Having reservations, my dear?" he purred. Octavia made the mistake of glancing at him. He raised his arms above his head, stretching lazily, and catching her gaze, gave her another of his playful winks. His charcoal hair had slipped from its previously immaculate state, and a rogue strand hung over one delicate cheekbone.

Refusing to give Loki the satisfaction of victory in this case, she screwed up all her courage and shook her head, marching to the other side of the bed and throwing back a corner of the blanket to wriggle under it, making sure to keep just enough distance between them both that there was no danger of brushing against his bare body. He smiled and shimmied down beneath the covers himself, turning on his shoulder to face her.

"Don't let me be the reason you topple off the bed in the middle of the night," he said softly, indicating the limited amount of space she had left between her and the edge of the mattress. Letting out a sigh, she wiggled her hips a little closer to him. His grin broadened.

"There's a good girl." Reaching out a hand, he flicked his wrist suddenly and the room fell pitch black. Octavia nearly yelped in surprise, and heard Loki chuckle again.

"Magic, darling," he whispered. Octavia imagined she could almost feel his warm breath tickling her cheek. Turning her back to him, she suppressed a deep sigh. Octavia had a feeling it was not going to be easy to fall asleep tonight.

Loki in the meantime gazed at the dark outline of the female beside him, just barely restraining himself from running his fingers through her silky hair. Yes, damn her to Hel. Tonight was not going to be a restful one.

**Hey! So I hoped you enjoyed the next chapter of the story, soon the adventure and gore will come in don't worry! And yus, the comp is still on!:D Sorry if there's any spelling mistake's, Hel is not incorrect for She is a woman, see... Letting you in on a bit of the upcoming chapters... **


	6. Bathtubs and naked forms

**Thanks for all the amazing reviews, follows and Favs! I love you all! Sorry it there's any spelling mistakes, I broke my writing hand and Im have to use my right hand... *cries* Anyway hope you enjoy!:**

Octavia did sleep however, like a rock. When her dreamless slumber finally loosened her from its gentle grip, she had no idea where she was. The first thing her eyes rested on was Loki's armor on the wall. Right, Asgard.

The bed was so soft and the blankets so warm and cozy, Octavia could have nearly drifted back to sleep again if it weren't for the peculiar weight across her midsection. Octavia could hear Loki's calm, measured breathing from somewhere behind her. Every once in a while he'd snore ever so softly.

Lifting her head from the pillow and twisting around, Octavia was met with quite a shock. The mysterious weight on her abdomen shifted as Loki let out a contented sigh in his sleep and tightened his arm around her.

Her mouth dropped open, cheeks heating. Of all the nerve! Octavia wriggled around, deliberately trying to rouse him, but still the raven haired prince slept on, completely undisturbed. Huffing impatiently, she glared at his sleeping face.

Even unconscious, Loki was beautiful. Long dark lashes curled against fair skin; pink-tinged lips were parted ever so slightly as he slumbered. Octavia's eyes traced the lines of his cheeks and jaw, the smooth surface of his high forehead. Dark strands of hair fell across his face like black feathers, and she wanted to brush them away but instead folded her arms across her chest. Octavia tried to remain angry with him, but soon his steady, calm breathing lulled her to sleep once more…

* * *

Poke.

Something tickled her cheek ever so slightly. Reaching up, Octavia tried to brush it away, mentally cursing whatever insect had decided her face was an ideal place to land. Letting out a sleepy sigh, Octavia shoved her hand further beneath her pillow and tried to get comfortable once more.

Poke.

This time it was more deliberate. Groaning, Octavia reached up to swat rather viciously at the damn bug. Her fingers collided with something fleshy and alive, and slender, cool fingers gripped her hand before she could respond. Yelping, Octavia's eyes snapped open and she raised her head from…Loki's chest.

The God of Mischief smirked at her.

"Good morning," he said softly. Cheeks blazing, Octavia tried to scramble off of him and found herself hopelessly tangled in the sheets. Letting out a surprised squeak, she toppled off the mattress, colliding hard with the bearskin rug on the floor and taking most of the blankets with her.

Laughter erupted from the bed. Furious and humiliated, she freed herself from the cocoon of sheets and pulled down her nightgown, unable to meet his gaze.

"I did warn you that you were too close to the edge, did I not?" Loki asked with amusement clear in his tone.

"That wasn't fair," Octavia grumbled, flopping back down on the edge of the mattress and rubbing her hip, fairly sure that she was going to have a nice big bruise there now.

"I do not understand your meaning," Loki said calmly, propping himself up on an elbow and smiling at her, ignoring the glare Octavia shot him. "If we are talking about what is fair and what is not, then I would say that waking up to a young lady deciding that I make a comfortable pillow is rather uncalled-for." His grin broadened as she blush deepened.

"Just shut it," Octavia growled. "And anyway," she remembered suddenly, "you started it."

"Me?" Loki pointed to his bare chest with a look of absolute innocence. "I do not have any recollection of such an incident." Of course, he was asleep.

Unbidden, Octavia's gaze darted down his body. Thank goodness he was still covered, mostly. One bare leg peaked out from the sheets and she bit her lip, tearing her gaze away from his lean, muscled thigh.

Right, not only were you getting a little too cuddly in her sleep, but he was nude beneath those blankets. That made things so much better. Letting out a sigh of frustration, she stood up and marched over to her bundle on the couch, nearly tripping over a rug in her hurry.

"Going somewhere?" Loki yawned, watching Octavia with half-closed eyes.

"I'm taking a bath," Octavia announced, and trying to hold on to what dignity she had left, she stormed into the bathroom and shut the door hard behind her. Octavia thought she heard him chuckle.

The water was the perfect temperature, and the soaps simply divine. She stretched languidly in the large bathtub, sliding down until her chin rested on the surface of the water, and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. Octavia could really get used to this.

Octavia closed her eyes… and opened them again when she felt the atmosphere of the room change. She was not alone anymore.

Letting out a frightened yelp, she simultaneously reached for one of the fluffy white towels that were folded neatly on a table beside the bathtub, and dove beneath the suds in an attempt to cover herself up.

"Loki!" Octavia screeched, but stopped when she realized that the figure was not Loki at all. Deirdre shielded her eyes with a hand.

"M-my apologies," she stammered, going red beneath her blonde curls. "Master Loki wished to know if you wanted breakfast delivered here or if you wished to have it in the banquet hall."

Stifling a curse, Octavia covered her face with her hands.

"He sent you in here for that?!" She groaned, peeping out at her through her fingers. Thankfully, she was staring at the wall as if she found it extremely interesting.

"I suppose he thought it of immediate importance," Octavia replied, giving a little shrug. She sighed.

"Breakfast here sounds great," Octavia said grumpily. "And you can tell Master Loki that I'm gonna kick him in the balls for scaring me like that."

Octavia could have sworn she saw a smile flicker across Deirdre's face.

"I will, uh, pass that message on, my lady," she said, giggling slightly, and giving a curtsy, turned with a swish of her skirts and left.

Groaning again, Octavia dropped her forehead onto the edge of the bathtub. She remembered he was called the God of Mischief. He was certainly living up to the name thus far.

Octavia decided on a pale green gown for today, and when she finally emerged from the bathroom after taking her sweet old time in an attempt to piss Loki off on purpose, he met her with a bright smile and a jewel encrusted dinner tray.

"Breakfast is served, my dear," Loki said softly, giving a little bow. He was wearing pants now, thankfully, but his abdomen remained bare. His hair looked pleasantly dishevelled. Remembering that she was supposed to be angry with him, Octavia pursed her lips and met his gaze with the most hostile one Octavia could conjure.

"You're pretty brave to be approaching me after that little trick earlier," Octavia commented sourly. Loki snickered, not even bothering to deny it.

"Forgive me, darling, but you are just so beautiful when you're angry," he murmured, sitting the tray of food on the bedside table and reaching out a hand to tuck a damp lock of hair behind her ear. Refusing to succumb to his charms, she ducked out of the way.

Loki took this as a challenge. Letting out a playful growl, he unexpectedly lunged for her. Octavia yelped and tried to dodge, but she was not yet used to wearing long skirts and tripped over the hem of her dress. She felt his hard body collide with hers as them both went down in a crumpled heap of tangled limbs.

"Loki!" Octavia whined, trying to push him off of her. He wasn't overly heavy, but he was strong, and her efforts only seemed to amuse him further. Laughing, he soon had her wrists pinned above her head with one hand and the rest of her body captured by his powerful thighs. She were virtually helpless.

He grinned down at her.

"Well, I imagine that didn't turn out the way you expected, did it?" he chuckled. His blue-green eyes sparkled with mischief, his jet black hair hanging in his face like a silken curtain. His bare chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath from laughing.

"Get off me!" Octavia demanded, wriggling uselessly. He laughed again.

"What for?" he teased, grinning wickedly. "I'm rather enjoying this."

"'S'not fair," She grumbled, trying unsuccessfully to free her wrists. Octavia realized he still had one hand free.

"There you go again, speaking of what is fair and just," Loki crooned, smiling into her eyes. "I think you're forgetting that I am the God of Mischief." He leaned in close, his warm breath tickling her ear. "And I do what I want, mortal," he purred softly.

Suddenly that free hand found Octavia's ribcage, fingertips fluttering over her side like the wings of a butterfly. Octavia's whole body jolted as she burst into hysterical giggles, squirming so much that Loki nearly lost his grip on her. His laughter joined hers as he tickled her sides, stomach, underarms, neck, and pretty much any spot he could reach.

"S-stop i-it!" Octavia squealed, blinking back tears. This was too much. Amazingly, Loki did stop, almost as quickly as he had begun. He grinned at her, his face mere inches from her own.

"Just a bit of fun," he whispered, a bit breathless himself as he suddenly released Octavia's arms and climbed off of her. Straightening up, he held out a slender hand. Octavia stared at it suspiciously, but reached out and took it, and he hoisted her to her feet.

"You're evil," Octavia gasped, grabbing her side where a stitch had formed from laughing so hard. Loki chuckled.

"Not evil," he corrected, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and lifting the covers from the breakfast dishes, "just mischievous." He winked. "Breakfast?"

**I hoped you enjoyed this I much as I enjoyed writing it! Anyway, there was a little... Well a lot of fluffy clouds in this one but the adventure will come!~**


	7. The apple

Loki watched the mortal woman with interest as she dug into the fresh fruit, bread, and cheese on the breakfast platter. Choosing a slice of bread layered with a sweet fruit paste for himself, he chewed thoughtfully. To wait, or not to wait, that was the question. A day was long enough, wasn't it?

Octavia had not discovered that she was absolutely famished, and proceeded to direct all of her attention to her breakfast, she may have noticed the intensity of Loki's gaze upon her, the sparkle of mischief in his pale eyes. Octavia certainly would have noticed him surreptitiously pulling the apple into being, and noted that there had been none like it on the tray of food. It was breathtakingly beautiful, smooth and golden and as bright as the morning sunlight that filtered into the chamber through the arched windows on the far wall.

But no, Octavia didn't notice, nor was she aware as Loki flexed his slender fingers above the dazzling fruit, reducing its shine and transforming its appearance to that of a regular, rosy red apple. Tossing it up and catching it casually, he cleared his throat softly, finally capturing her attention.

Octavia looked up, her mouth full of bread. Loki smirked and held the fruit out to her between his fingertips.

"Apple?" he asked, blue-green eyes fixed upon hers. Octavia looked at the oddly attractive fruit and then back to him. Detecting nothing amiss, she finished chewing and smiled, taking it from his hand.

"Yes please," Octavia answered automatically. The skin of the apple was glossy and smooth, its cool, spherical shape fit perfectly into her palm. The other food forgotten, she bit into it with a satisfying crunch.

Immediately Octavia was overwhelmed by the sweetness of this fruit, and juice dribbled down her chin as she happily munched. Loki watched with a strange glint in his eyes until she held nothing but the core, staring unhappily at the little black seeds that seemed to taunt her. Octavia felt rather dazed and confused, and more than a little disappointed that the apple was gone so quickly.

Reaching out, Loki plucked the core from her hand.

"You have juice on your face, darling," he commented softly. Octavia blinked, and seeming to snap out of it, blushed and wiped furiously at her chin. What had come over her?

"Thanks," Octavia mumbled, embarrassed by her actions. Loki chuckled. Octavia looked back at the rest of the meal, appetite strangely gone. Loki, on the other hand, reached for some more bread and a piece of cheese, an odd smile on his face. It made Octavia feel uncomfortable, as if she had missed something. Frowning, Octavia stared at the platter, wondering why there had been only one apple for two people.

Loki, on the other hand, finished his meal, feeling a mixture of triumph and trepidation. So far his plan was working perfectly, so why was it that when he met the Midgardian's gaze his stomach clenched with anxiety? There was something about those eyes that stripped him to the bone, seemed to lay bare all that he wished to conceal. Or perhaps it was all in his head. She surely could not know his intentions.

Feeling a sudden and unusual wave of nausea, Loki re-covered the now empty dishes, his usually steady hands trembling. Luckily the girl didn't seem to notice. He cleared his throat again.

"I wish to study my magic scrolls in the library this morning," he announced, his own voice sounding hollow in his ears. "Perhaps you would like to take a tour of the gardens? It's a lovely morning, and my mother, the Queen, is sure to be found tending her flowers." Loki spoke the truth for once, but to him even that sounded like a lie. He wanted to bite his own tongue. What was wrong with him today?

His jovial mood of earlier now completely shattered, he rose to his feet, not meeting the mortal's eyes as she answered him.

"Sure, okay," Octavia replied, sensing a change in Loki's frame of mind, but she couldn't for the life of her place a finger on what was wrong. Only moments ago he had been smiling, and now a frown creased his brow, his eyes dark and troubled. Perhaps a little time alone was all he needed.

"Good," he said stiffly, still not meeting her gaze. "Have Deirdre show you the way." Walking swiftly to the door, he pulled it open and stalked out; leaving Octavia to stare, mouth agape, after his retreating form, until another face appeared in the open doorway.

Deirdre smiled shyly at Octavia and gave a little curtsy.

"Hello again," she greeted brightly in her soft voice, entering the room and picking up the breakfast tray. "I hope you enjoyed your breakfast?"

Octavia simply nodded in reply, still baffled over Loki's mood swings. Deirdre took one look at her face and gave a little sigh.

"The prince can be, uh, difficult at times," she mumbled apologetically. "I imagine he has holed himself up in the library again." It was a question in the form of a statement. Again, Octavia nodded.

"He said you could show me the way to the gardens," Octavia said finally. Deirdre beamed.

"That I can, miss," she replied, and beckoned for Octavia to follow, which she did. She walked quickly, and Octavia nearly tripped over her dress trying to keep up.

After a few twists and turns, they came to a set of enormous wooden doors. Deirdre turned and smiled at Octavia.

"The garden is right through here," she announced cheerily. "It's absolutely breathtaking this time of year, I must say. Frigga's flowers are in full bloom!" Suddenly she clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. "Oops! I meant 'Queen' Frigga," she whispered. "Please do not tell anyone I let that slip!"

Octavia chuckled, and promised her that she wouldn't. Deirdre grinned and pushed open one of the wooden doors with one hand, still balancing the breakfast tray in the other.

"Have fun, my lady!" she called as Octavia stepped out of the doors, but she barely heard Deirdre as she was too busy staring stupefied at the beauty of the garden.

Deirdre let the door fall shut, and turning on her heel, nearly lost the tray out of her hand. Letting out a startled yelp, she just managed to steady it before everything fell crashing to the ground. One item did, however, roll off and hit her boot. Letting out a sigh, she reached down to pick it up, and paused. It was an apple core. Puzzled, she daintily plucked it from the marble with two fingers and placed it back on the tray. Funny, she didn't remember putting any apples among the breakfast that morning.

"Now, now Deirdre," she scolded herself. "Do not start losing your senses now. You must have just forgotten."

**Hey! Finally a update! Quite a short one but the other's shall soon be longer!**

**And do you really think it was Loki's plan to bring her here? It might of been the Queens, after all Frigga wants her suns to meet other woman? Loki might have a different plan!~~ ;)**


	8. Gardens and Magic

The garden truly was magnificent. Such a vast array of colours and scents that Octavia was quite dazzled by the sheer beauty of it all, and nearly didn't notice the tall, stately woman who stepped out from between the trees.

"Welcome to my garden," a female voice addressed Octavia softly. Octavia turned to see Queen Frigga smiling at her. She wore a rather plain brown dress and her hair hung loose like a maiden's, yet her beauty was still striking. In her hand she held a small spade, and upon closer inspection Octavia could see little clumps of soil on the blade. It was true; she had been tending her flowers as Loki had guessed.

"Thank you, your majesty," Octavia replied, shifting into an awkward curtsy. At least this time she wore a dress. She laughed lightly.

"Please call me Frigga, dear," she said, holding out her hand to Octavia. "Come and let me show you around." Octavia took her hand, finding it to possess more strength than she had anticipated, and followed her tall, willowy form down the garden path, which was laid with colorful stones.

As they walked, Frigga engaged her in conversation.

"I trust you slept well?" Her voice reminded Octavia of a summer breeze, warm and gentle.

"Yes I did, thank you," Octavia replied, smiling even as her mind returned to Loki's shift in mood earlier. Frigga gave her hand a light squeeze. Octavia thought that it should feel odd for her to be walking hand-in-hand with this woman she had just only met, but for some reason this was the most natural thing in the world. Octavia felt a little like a child gain, on a walk in the park with her mother.

"I'm glad," she murmured, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "And how is my Loki?" Her Loki. Octavia couldn't help but grin at the love that was put into that simple sentence.

"He is in the library this morning," Octavia answered, choosing not to mention how she had the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

"Ah, studying his magic no doubt," Frigga said softly, smiling as she stroked the petals of a rose. Octavia remembered the one that Loki had created for her, and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "Sometimes I think he spends so much time among printed paper that he forgets the rest of the world still exists," she chuckled, her eyes shining with affection for her youngest child.

"Loki is a bit of an enigma, that is for certain," the goddess continued, almost as much to herself as to Octavia. "He grows so easily restless with day to day life that he feels he must create entertainment for himself, and sometimes this can harm others." She looked at Octavia. "But in his heart, he is the same as you and I. He only longs for acceptance, for love." Octavia could have sworn she heard a strange emphasis on those last words, but she was not certain. Octavia wondered why she was telling her this.

"Thor believes that Loki brought you here," Frigga said suddenly. She paused in her walking and let go of Octavia's hand to adjust a vine on a branch. A butterfly, as bright as the sunlight that filtered through the leaves, lit upon the back of her hand and she gazed at it lovingly before gently blowing between its trembling wings, causing it to lift off in a tumbling flight once more.

"But why?" Octavia asked, genuinely curious. "What would he want with me? He didn't even know me until yesterday."

Frigga turned to her, looking thoughtful.

"I am not certain yet. But do not think badly of him, my dear." She smiled at her, and Octavia nodded in compliance. Taking her hand again, she began to walk once more in silence, allowing her a chance to think about her words.

* * *

Loki flexed his fingers, muttering the incantation, feeling the words roll over his tongue, smooth as marbles, falling in the still and dusty air as softly as downy feathers. The magic pulsed through his veins, lighting his eyes and tingling his spine. His fingertips heated.

"Yes," he whispered, turning his head to the open book beside him to read the rest of the spell. His pale blue-green eyes, glinting like jewels in the candlelight, darted over the intricate script, scrawled in shining black ink across the yellowed parchment. His pale lips moved in silent recitation, and the glow of power at his fingertips grew like a flame, fanned by an invisible breath.

Now for the final touch; Loki focused on his hands once more, waving them as if writing in the air. A soft, warm breeze began to blow through the room, rustling the pages of the open book. Loki felt his heart leap into his throat as his boots left the floor, as he became as weightless as the wind itself.

A prickling could be felt on his skin as the stubs of mottled brown feathers appeared on his arms, sprouting rapidly even as his bone structure began to shift. He watched his own body with breathless excitement as he began to transform into a falcon. Finally, it was working!

But no, it was not to be. Even as he felt the power surge through his body, something wasn't fitting. Something was missing. The feathers receded despite his uttered curses. His boots touched the floor again and he dropped to his knees, partially from exhaustion and partially from anger. What had he done wrong this time? He had pronounced every word right, made every movement to be exact. Tears of fury stung in his eyes and he hastily wiped them away.

It was that girl. He couldn't get her out of his mind, and now she was affecting his magic. Standing up he closed the book with a dull thud, a puff of dust rising and making him cough. He squinted up at a tiny window, at the narrow shaft of sunlight that filtered through. There was no way around it. He had to make different arrangements. He could not spend another night with her in his bed.

His mind made up, he strode to the library door and pulled it open. He needed to find Deirdre.

* * *

"You will have your own room tonight," Loki announced at the midday meal. Octavia would have gaped at him if it weren't for the fact that her mouth was full. Sif shot Octavia a questioning glance and Fandral gave a short laugh that quickly turned into a choke when Thor smacked him on the shoulder.

"Is something wrong?" Octavia asked, not willing to admit that she felt a wave of disappointment.

"No," Loki said quickly, shaking his head and flashing Octavia a smile. "I just thought that you would enjoy having your own space. No unwanted interruptions." Remembering her morning bath, Octavia had to admit that it did sound tempting.

"All right," Octavia gave in, shrugging and trying to act as if she didn't feel mildly betrayed. And what reason did she have to feel that way, anyway? Octavia didn't seriously believe he was interested in her, did she? It's not like Octavia cared either way, right?

Sif must have sensed Octavia's discomfort, for she was quick to suggest that Octavia and Loki join her, Thor, and the Warriors Three as they practiced sparring in the courtyard. Octavia agreed, excited to see the others in action, although not seriously planning on getting involved herself, having no battle experience whatsoever.

Octavia was not certain, but she thought Loki seemed relieved for an excuse to change the subject.

**Hello! You have a new writer for now as my sister is currently in Hospital, being to ill to type she gave the responsibility to me (Ha) So... Yup. Hope you enjoyed the next chapter!**


	9. Loki

**A big chunky chapter to make up from the last small-like chapter, enjoy:**

After lunch Octavia followed the small group of warriors to their training grounds, which turned out to be a grassy plain surrounded by trees, where nearby the royal horses were stabled.

Each person had chosen their weapon of choice; Thor carried his trusty hammer Mjolnir, Volstagg tried the weight of his battle axe in his massive fist, Fandral's fingers itched to grasp the hilt of his shining sword, Hogun casually spun his mace, and Sif firmly grasped the length of her spear. Loki, as always, carried his magic staff, and you held nothing, being as how you only intended to be a spectator.

"I hardly think it's fair that Thor should be allowed to use Mjolnir," Fandral was complaining as Octavia walked onto the field, Thor and Volstagg in the front, Fandral and Sif in the middle, and Octavia, Hogun, and Loki taking up the rear. "We're simply sparring, not trying to crush each other's skulls in!"

"I promise I will go easy on you, if that is what you wish," Thor joked, reaching back to slap the smaller man on the shoulder.

"Oh come now, Thor," Fandral quipped. "You know that had the sun not been in my eyes, I would have easily bested you last time at swordsmanship." Thor responded with a hearty laugh.

"The sun was in my eyes, the wind knocked me off balance," Sif muttered sarcastically. "Why can you not just admit when you are outmatched?"

"And I suppose you think you are a fit match for my skills, Lady Sif?" Fandral mocked, sliding his sword from its scabbard and tossing it from hand to hand.

"I do not need to think what I already know," Sif sniffed imperiously. Octavia looked up at Loki to see the tiniest smirk cross his features.

"Well then," Fandral turned suddenly, striking a fencing pose and pausing Sif in her tracks with his blade pointed casually at her. "Shall we put that to the test?"

Sif smiled, shifting her grip on her spear so that she now held it in both hands before her, and leaning onto the balls of her feet.

"Ready when you are, Fandral dear," she taunted.

"Perhaps it would be wise to move out of the way," Hogun commented in a thick Japanese accent. Octavia and Loki nodded and Loki, taking her arm, led them both over to the stables.

"Stay over here and out of trouble," he ordered Octavia. Octavia didn't need to be told twice as she watched Sif vault through the air, ponytail streaming behind her, to avoid a thrust from Fandral's gleaming blade.

"What about you?" Octavia asked Loki, as he too surveyed the field. Thor and Volstagg had discarded their weapons and were circling each other, apparently intent upon trying their strength in a wrestling match.

Loki shrugged.

"I will spar with you," Hogun offered, stepping forward and giving a respectful bow. Loki glanced at him for a moment, taking in his dark armor and heavy mace. Hogun met the prince's gaze, unflinching. Loki sighed.

"All right, fine." He gave Octavia one last look before walking out onto the field with the Asian man. Feeling awkward and out of place, Octavia finally sat cross-legged in the grass and watched.

Loki and Hogun faced each other, Loki with his pointed scepter held in one hand, the other hand stretched in front as if to block an incoming attack. Hogun struck a ready stance, mace firmly in hand, dark eyes focused, his face expressionless.

For a moment, Octavia felt panic rise in her chest. Loki, despite his armor, looked almost as out of place as she felt, his tall lean form contrasting starkly with the other's muscled stature. He looked almost fragile. However, everything changed when Hogun moved forward to strike.

The sudden burst of speed was incredible, startling Octavia, but Loki remained cool and composed, not even flinching as Hogun swung his deadly weapon with a shout. Octavia flinched, shutting her eyes and expecting a sickening crack as the mace connected, but heard nothing. Octavia opened your eyes again to see Hogun standing there alone, looking dumbfounded. Where had Loki gone?

Then he was there, materializing out of thin air and landing silently behind Hogun as if he had never left. Octavia almost gave a cry of warning when Hogun must have sensed something amiss and turned in time to block a strike from Loki's scepter. The Asian man smirked.

"Magic tricks," he commented, and in a sudden flurry of movement laid Loki out flat on his back. The God of Mischief stared up at the sky in stunned silence. He didn't have much time to replay what happened however, as Hogun moved to strike again. Loki rolled, the mace barely missing his glistening golden horns. The raven-haired god pulled himself to his feet, gritting his teeth in embarrassment.

"I'll show you magic tricks," he snarled, holding out his free hand. Suddenly, as if imitating Mjolnir, Hogun's mace leapt from his fingers, landing in Loki's outstretched palm. Hogun looked at his empty hand, stunned.

"Let's see how good you are without this," Loki spat, swinging at Hogun with his own mace. Loki's movements were clumsy however, and Hogun easily side-stepped, bringing a leather clad leg to Loki's rib-cage and knocking the wind out of the god. Then he brought a quick fist to Loki's jaw, the smack audible even from where Octavia was still sitting. Loki stumbled, dazed, and Hogun easily plucked his mace from the prince's fingers.

Loki steadied himself in time to block the downward swing of the mace with his scepter, sparks flying. He brought up a long leg and kicked Hogun square in the stomach, sending the smaller man stumbling to the ground, where he rolled into a backwards somersault and found his footing once more.

Loki lunged at Hogun, pointing his scepter like a spear, but Hogun predicted this attack and ducked to the side, kicking the scepter right out of Loki's hands. Loki's face registered shock, and Hogun brought the mace swinging from the side, catching him off guard. This time the connection was evident, and Loki was sent flying into the grass. He rolled onto his back, coughing. The armor had prevented any severe injuries, but it was still evident who had won when the fallen prince found himself gazing at the spiked end of the mace.

"Good match, my prince," Hogun complimented, holding out a hand to help Loki to his feet. Loki ignored the gesture and stood, retrieving his helmet from where it had fallen off and running his fingers through his tousled hair.

Relieved that he hadn't sustained any permanent damage, Octavia turned her attention to the others. Fandral seemed to have his hands full with Sif, who almost seemed to be dancing as she easily avoided his every strike, finally coming up behind him and hooking the shaft of her spear around his throat, throwing him to his back. Octavia laughed at the stunned expression on the blond man's features.

"Check mate," Sif called, reaching down to ruffle his hair and earning a shout of indignation.

Moments later, Volstagg had to admit defeat when Thor nearly knocked him out cold with a sleeper hold. Loki approached Octavia, looking sweaty and disgruntled but no worse for the wear.

"I thought you did pretty well," Octavia offered lamely, and he snorted in response. She was about to say something else when a sound attracted her attention. Octavia hadn't heard it before, but perhaps it was because she was so enthralled by the battle. It was the sound of a horse whinnying. Loki must have heard it to, and the scowl left his face instantly.

"Sleipnir," he breathed.

"Say what?" Octavia asked, wondering if Hogun had perhaps hit him too hard after all. A second later, Loki took her arm, leading them towards the entrance to the stables.

"Come with me, there is someone you must meet."

He didn't loosen his grip on Octavia's arm before they were standing in front of the largest, most beautiful gray horse you had ever seen. The horse whinnied and bucked his head happily as soon as he saw Loki, his large brown eyes shining.

"Hello my boy," Loki greeted the horse, stroking his muzzle and nuzzling into his shining, white mane affectionately. He turned to Octavia, and the joy in his eyes was un-mistakable. "This is Sleipnir, my son."

Now Octavia had heard everything.

"E-excuse me, what?" Octavia stammered. Loki grinned and opened the door to Sleipnir's stall, unwinding the leather strap of the bridle from where it was tied and leading the enormous stallion out.

Octavia's mouth fell open. Not only was this the biggest horse she had ever seen, but she counted eight legs in total.

Sleipnir nuzzled Loki, whinnying with delight and stomping his many hooves.

"Sleipnir is my son," Loki repeated, petting the horse. "It's a rather long story, but some time ago I had the unpleasant task of jeopardizing the work of an evil Jotun, or Frost Giant, who was being aided by his horse, Svadilfari. I had to lure Svadilfari away somehow, so I turned myself into a mare."

"Whoa, wait a second," Octavia interrupted, holding up your hands. "You can shape-shift?"

"Of course," Loki smiled at her surprise. "May I continue my story?" Sleipnir neighed, flicking his mane. Octavia nodded.

"I turned myself into a mare, and caught the attention of Svadilfari, indeed managing to lure him from his master," Loki murmured, absently fondling Sleipnir's velvety ears. "When we had run for quite some time, Svadilfari decided to take me as his own." Here Loki cleared his throat, flushing a little pink. "I found myself with child, and later gave birth to Sleipnir."

Octavia simply gaped at him, unable to wrap her head around such a fantastical tale.

"Wait, so, you're technically Sleipnir's…mother?" Loki chuckled at Octavia's expression of disbelief.

This was all too much. Octavia burst into peels of laughter. Loki watched, amusement playing on his features as she nearly had to sit down in the straw to keep from falling down.

"Mommy Loki!" Octavia gasped, her eyes blurring with tears as her shoulders shook with uncontrollable giggles. Loki shook his head.

"I'm glad you find it humorous," he commented dryly. "Perhaps it would be wise if I didn't mention my other offspring."

"Wait, you have more?" Octavia asked, finally managing to stifle her laughter and staring at him in astonishment. "Are you the mother of them, too?"

Loki laughed.

"No, I fathered these ones," he replied, "with a Jotun named Angrboda."

Octavia stared at him.

"But I thought the Jotun's were the bad guys," Octavia wondered aloud. Loki shrugged, smirking mischievously.

"You seem surprised by this," he observed, raising an eyebrow. "I am the God of Mischief, after all."

"Okay, so you have giant ice babies?" Octavia asked, half-jokingly. Loki frowned.

"No, he has monsters." The reply came from behind her, and Octavia turned to see Thor and the others, who had obviously noticed there disappearance. Octavia didn't miss how Loki moved almost protectively in front of Sleipnir.

"Thor," Loki growled, almost as a warning, but his older brother didn't heed it. Thor turned to Octavia.

"He wed the Jotun simply to spite our father," the blond warrior explained. "And together they brought the most terrible beasts into the Nine Realms: Jormungandr, the Midgard serpent, so enormous that it has wrapped itself around your planet under the oceans and holds its tail in its mouth. His breath itself is lethal." Octavia's mouth fell open. "Hel, the Goddess of the Underworld, half of her form as hideous as her terrible mother and half as normal flesh," Thor continued, locking his gaze with his younger brother's before returning it to Octavia, "and Fenrir, the monstrous wolf prophesied to kill the Allfather at Ragnarok."

"They are not monsters," Loki said softly, the fury in his eyes blazing. "I would watch your tongue, brother."

"And what else would you call them?" Sif stepped forward, crossing her arms.

"Certainly not lovable little rascals," Fandral commented to Volstagg, who shook his head.

"Silence!" Loki's shout startled you all. He moved forward quickly with feline grace, scepter raised. "I will not have you speak of my offspring in such a way! I am a prince of Asgard and you will show respect!" Sleipnir reared at Loki's tone, four deadly hooves lashing out and barely missing Octavia's head.

"Will someone control that beast?" Fandral yelled, pulling Octavia from harms way. Loki turned on Fandral, blue-green eyes like shards of ice.

"Unhand her!" he snarled, aiming the point of his scepter at the center of Fandral's chest. Octavia realized he was talking about her.

"Loki," Octavia began, but Fandral cut her off.

"I am merely protecting the mortal from your 'son'", Fandral shot back, "or would you rather her head got crushed like a grape under his thundering hooves?" Loki turned to look at Sleipnir, who shied away, backing into his stall, and then his gaze fell on Octavia and Fandral again.

"I said 'let go of her!'" He reached forward as if to grab her, and Octavia didn't mistake the glow of energy like a blue flame flaring up at the tip of his scepter as he aimed it at Fandral.

"No!" Octavia shrieked, holding up her arms in a feeble attempt to protect her rescuer.

That's when things got weird.

**Oooo Cliffhanger! So, my sister , PhysicNightmare, will be out of hospital in a few days so she can carry on, but for now... You're stuck with me!:D **


	10. You're slipping, my friend

**Hope you enjoy the next chapter, and Yes! I have returned from the dead!Woop woop! So anyway... *Opens mouth and spills out chapter***

Time itself seemed to slow down and stop entirely in those next moments, the air rippling like water around Octavia and becoming nearly tangible. Loki's face froze in an expression of rage and shock, and Fandral became as stiff as a statue behind her. The others as well seemed to be affected by this strange turn of events, and became as life-sized figurines, their features masks of surprise.

Motion wasn't the only thing that seemed to cease, and Octavia felt as though someone had shoved balls of cotton in her ears, for everything had fallen eerily silent. The air weighed heavily on her body, but much to Octavia's surprise, she found herself still perfectly capable of movement, if a little sluggish.

Walking forward clumsily as if wading through a lake, Octavia hesitantly touched the frozen blue orb that Loki had fired from his scepter and that now hung in midair like a crystallized ball of flame. It felt like nothing, but reacted to her fingertips, floating away lazily.

Relaxing slightly, Octavia took hold of it and turned to stare at Fandral. He looked so helpless like this. His sword hung at his hip, but it would be useless against Loki's magic. The warrior hadn't even had time to make a grab for it. Making her decision, Octavia walked away from the small group and stared at the field in the distance, then drew back her arm and tossed the ball of magic as far as she could, watching it land harmlessly in the grass a few yards away.

Turning, Octavia walked back and took her place in front of Fandral. As a precaution, she reached out and gently pulled Loki's scepter from his grip, laying it on the ground at his feet. Octavia felt mildly guilty for disarming him, but under the circumstances, it was probably the best idea.

Now there was nothing left to do but wait for this strange spell to wear off, for surely it was a spell. It occurred to her that she had no idea who had cast it. Whoever it was, they were nowhere in sight. Shrugging, Octavia took up her previous position as best as she could remember it, and waited. It didn't take long.

As quickly as time had frozen, it sprang back into life. Loki lunged forward; confusion registering on his features as he realized his staff was no longer in his grasp. His nimble movements turned clumsy in an instant and he fell rather unceremoniously into Octavia, knocking her off balance and sending herself crashing into Fandral. All three of them landed in a heap in the straw.

Sif swore loudly, and Volstagg gasped. Loki, who was lying across Octavia's legs, lifted his head to stare at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. His face was even more pale than usual and his raven hair had fallen over his forehead.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Thor's voice boomed, and a large set of hands gripped Octavia, yanking her rather roughly to her feet. Fandral scrambled up, looking disgruntled at being knocked over and more than a little bewildered at what had taken place. Only Loki remained kneeling in the straw. He stared first at his hands, then at his staff that lay beside him.

"Loki!" Sif's sharp voice seemed to snap him out of it, and he looked up as the warrior woman stalked forward and reached down, snatching him by the collar and nearly lifting him completely off his feet as she hoisted him up to face her. She was livid, her dark eyes snapping. "What have you done?"

"I have done nothing!" Loki stammered, panic written on his face. The silver-tongued one was for once at a loss for words. "I promise you!"

"You lie!" Sif shouted, shoving him backwards and nearly causing him to lose his footing once again. "This is powerful magic!"

"That will be enough, Lady Sif!" Thor interrupted, stepping between the two before fists began to fly. "You forget that you are addressing a Prince of Asgard!"

Sif's face went from red to white, and she pursed her lips, lowering her gaze. A muscle jumped in her jaw. An uncomfortable silence fell in the stables, broken only by a soft whinny from Sleipnir.

"Brother," Loki began hoarsely, moving towards Thor with pleading eyes. "I assure you I had nothing to do with this."

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Loki," Thor growled, and Loki clenched his fists, looking around for some sort of avenue of escape.

"Loki didn't do anything." Octavia's voice sounded oddly out of place, and everyone turned to her with surprise, as if by speaking Octavia had reminded them of her presence. "I know, because I saw everything," Octavia continued shakily, stepping forward. "Everything froze, as if time itself had stopped. And I stopped Loki from hurting Fandral. I didn't see anyone else here, but I just know it wasn't him." Feeling the incredulous gazes of the others upon her, Octavia swallowed hard and fell silent.

"Of course you didn't see anyone else here," Loki spat bitterly. "What are you going on about?"

How everyone was looking at Octavia! As if they all knew something she didn't.

"Well, someone must have cast the spell," Octavia mumbled awkwardly. "Time doesn't just freeze itself."

"Aye," Fandral agreed softly, moving up to her and laying a hand on Octavia's shoulder. "It takes powerful magic to do what you just did."

"Me?!" Now it was Octavia's turn to stare at everyone in astonishment. "Ah, no I think you have the wrong person," she said, laughing nervously. "I'm just a normal human, remember?"

"Apparently not." Thor's voice was gruff, and he was regarding Octavia with same distrust that she had seen in his eyes the first time they had met. Bewildered, Octavia looked to Loki for support, but his face was rigid and he refused to meet her gaze.

"Loki, you told us that this girl was mortal and posed no threat to this realm," Sif accused, crossing her arms. "How do you intend to explain this to the Allfather?"

"Nothing needs to be explained!" Loki snapped suddenly, seeming to regain his tongue and straightening his shoulders, turned to her with fire in his pale eyes. "The girl is my responsibility and I will deal with her as I see fit!"

He took Octavia by the wrist before she had a chance to object and with a swish of his cloak, led her away from the others. He walked so quickly that Octavia nearly had to run to keep up, and his grip on her arm bordered on painful.

"Loki," Octavia pleaded, but he wouldn't speak to her. Octavia's heart sank. She had no idea what had happened back there, but whatever they believed she had done had obviously gotten both her and Loki in quite a bit of trouble. He led her back into the palace, and turned down a corridor.

Recalling his speech to Thor about disposing of her if she was deemed a threat, made Octavia turn pale with fear. Was he indeed leading her to her execution? Tears began to spill down her cheeks of their own accord, and when Loki stopped suddenly, terror washed over her.

The raven-haired god turned to face you, finally letting go of your arm. Octavia was sure there would be bruises on her wrist by the next day, if she was allowed to live to see the next day, that is. Loki's expression was dark and did not look at all promising.

"Let me make something very clear to you, mortal," he growled, his tone making Octavia shiver. "I don't know how you managed to cast that spell earlier, but if you wish to remain on my good side, I'd suggest you refrain from repeating it. As you can see, it is my neck on the line as much as yours and I have no desire to rouse my father's anger at this time."

"Oh, I'm on your good side?" Octavia asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her tone. "So I suppose you don't intend to 'dispose' of me, then?"

Loki look momentarily surprised, and then frowned.

"Don't be ridiculous." He indicated the doors he had stopped in front of, and Octavia noticed for the first time where she was. "Come inside and gather up your things. I'll show you to your new room and you can get settled before supper." He opened the doors to his chambers and ushered Octavia in impatiently.

Octavia merely nodded and meekly did as he asked, wrapping everything in a bundle as it had been when Deirdre had brought it for her. Without speaking, Loki led you away from his room and down another corridor, where she was relieved to meet up with Deirdre.

"Ah, you are ready to see your new room?" she asked, giving a polite curtsy to the prince and a bright smile to Octavia. Octavia nodded.

Loki cleared his throat.

"If you wouldn't mind taking it from here, Deirdre, I would be much obliged. I feel weary and in need of a good bath after this afternoon's activities," Loki commented, smiling at the servant girl, and Octavia raised an eyebrow at his change in mood and tone.

"Of course, my lord," Deirdre replied, giving another curtsy. Loki turned on his heel and left.

Deirdre led Octavia into her new room, and you found it to be set up similar to Loki's, although the color scheme was white and pale green, and the furniture had a more feminine feel. Together they found a place for Octavia's belongings, and thanking Deirdre for her help, Octavia expressed the wish to be alone. She looked concerned, but didn't protest, and soon Octavia was seated on edge the large bed, alone with her thoughts.

Octavia had a lot to think about.

* * *

Loki had a lot on his mind as well as he settled down into the warm bath, sighing in contentment as the soothing heat brought relief to his aching muscles. The afternoon's events had been as much of a shock to him as anyone, perhaps even more so. The prince's pride was bruised at being bested in magic by an inexperienced mortal and a woman nonetheless!

He lifted a hand from the water, watching the droplets trickle down his pale skin. He had been studying magic for thousands of years now, but the spell this Midgardian had cast by accident was far more advanced than should have been possible. Not only had she made a fool of him, deflecting his attack and disarming him without his knowledge, but she was showing signs of a natural talent for magic that was greater than he could have ever hoped to acquire.

Dropping his arm back into the water, he leaned his head back against the rim of the tub, closing his eyes. The part that puzzled him the most was that he hadn't sensed it on her before. He had not been lying when he told the others that she was harmless, that she posed no threat. But that was before.

Before what? What had changed? Was it Asgard itself, awakening abilities within the mortal that had lain dormant her whole life? He had never heard of such a thing. Then what was it about her that had changed since she had arrived?

Suddenly he sat bolt upright, accidentally sending water sloshing over the edge of the tub, and swore loudly. Of course, it was the only explanation. The one thing he did not factor in to his plan.

"You're slipping, Loki," he murmured to himself, lying back again until the water lapping against his chin. "You keep up like this, and you'll lose your wonderful reputation." He chuckled at his own joke. Yes, it may not be what he had expected, but it was certainly an interesting development.

"Perhaps," he mused softly to himself, "it wouldn't hurt to see where this goes."


	11. Golden Hair

Supper time came, and Deirdre was the one to escort Octavia to supper tonight, as Loki didn't make an appearance. Octavia began to wonder if he was still angry at her after all, and her heart sank. Hard as she tried, Octavia could not figure out how she had cast that spell earlier. All she remembered was thinking that she had to protect Fandral from Loki, and suddenly bam, it had happened. Didn't spells typically need an incantation or something? Then again, Octavia hadn't exactly grown up in a world where magic was something anyone truly knew how to perform, and Octavia figured fairytales probably weren't the best source of information.

* * *

Loki's seat was conspicuously empty at the giant table as well, and Octavia sat down feeling even more self-conscious tonight than she had the night before. Luckily it didn't appear that the news of the incident earlier had spread, and it was only the Warriors Three, Lady Sif, and Thor who gave Octavia an odd glance as she joined them.

"Hello," Sif greeted Octavia, and Octavia thought her friendliness seemed a bit forced. "Is Loki not joining us tonight?" Octavia shrugged in reply.

"I don't know, I haven't seen him since he took me to my new room," she replied.

"Well, I'm not complaining," Fandral mumbled, obviously still sore over what happened earlier. Sif looked as if she was considering elbowing him in the ribs, but then Thor spoke.

"My brother has not hurt you, has he?" He frowned as he spoke, his bright blue eyes worried. Octavia was little taken aback by his concern, and she thought back to how terrified she had been that Loki did mean her harm.

"No, I'm fine," Octavia answered, trying a weak smile. "Just a little tired."

"It's been a trying day," Volstagg commented, his gruff voice a little softer than usual. The others nodded silently in agreement.

"So, Octavia how did you do it?" The question came from Hogun, and everyone turned to him in surprise that he of all people had been daring enough to bring it up. He met their gazes with a blank expression before focusing on Octavia once more.

"H-how did I do what?" Octavia stammered, knowing exactly what warrior had been referring to.

Hogun looked around, almost fidgeting with discomfort, but spoke again.

"Cast the Time Binding spell," he clarified in his thick accent. All eyes turned to Octavia, full of curiosity and suspicion, and suddenly the plate in front of her seemed very fascinating.

"I don't know," Octavia mumbled truthfully. She still wasn't ready to believe it truly had been her who cast the spell, but since everyone else was convinced, Octavia saw no point in arguing. "I was just thinking that I had to protect Fandral, and it sort of happened."

"Spells don't typically just happen," Thor said slowly, "especially not ones as potent as the Time Binding spell. Loki himself has trouble with that one."

Octavia looked up in surprise. Was Thor seriously suggesting that she had done something by accident that even someone as skilled as Loki hadn't mastered?

It was at this time that Odin and Frigga made their entrance, and the conversation was put on hold momentarily. The Allfather's gaze rested on his youngest son's empty seat, and a worried expression crossed the queen's face, but nothing was said. When everyone was settled once more and the banquet appeared, Sif addressed Octavia.

"You say you come from Midgard, is that correct?" she asked, reaching for a platter of hot, fresh bread. Octavia nodded in reply, taking a slice herself. Sif's brow furrowed in thought.

"If you have no memory of how you came to be here, couldn't it be possible that your memories of Midgard have been tampered with as well?" Fandral inquired quite suddenly, and everyone turned to him in surprise, including Octavia.

Octavia had to admit that the thought had not even crossed her mind, and it unnerved her greatly.

"I suppose that's not impossible," Lady Sif said slowly, staring into her mug of mead.

"Well, I'm sure we all know who it was that brought her here," Volstagg boomed.

"There's no proof that Loki had anything to do with it," Thor interrupted, his tone defensive. Octavia would never understand how one minute he'd be attacking his brother and the next he'd be standing up for him, although come to think of it, didn't all siblings behave this way?

"No proof he didn't, either," Fandral pointed out smoothly.

"Wait, what exactly are you implying here?" Sif cut in, addressing Fandral. "That somehow her memories are false? That she's not, in fact, a human?"

This whole conversation was not going in a direction that made Octavia feel very comfortable. Not only that, but they were speaking about her as if she wasn't still sitting at the table with them.

"Excuse me, guys?" Octavia said weakly. Suddenly she didn't have much of an appetite anymore. "Can we just drop it for now?"

Thor looked at you with concern etched in his features.

"But of course, my lady," he responded sympathetically, reaching across the table and petting Octavia's hand comfortingly. "I apologize on behalf of myself and my friends for not being more sensitive."

Octavia gave him a grateful smile, but she realized she had to get away from all of these people and the roar of conversation. Excusing herself awkwardly, Octavia fled the banquet hall, hoping that no one would decide to follow.

It couldn't be true. Octavia had a home, a family, and friends. She could picture the high school she graduated from as clear as day, and could still recite the combination to your bicycle lock. All of that couldn't have been an illusion, could it? Would Loki really do something like that?

Octavia almost screamed when a hand clapped down on her shoulder. Whirling around, Octavia came face to face with Lady Sif.

"I'm sorry for startling you," she said sincerely, "but I had to know if you were all right."

"I'm fine," Octavia mumbled, but she didn't feel fine at all, in fact she was rather surprised to discover that her eyes were blurred with tears. Sif must have noticed, for she pulled Octavia against her chest in an awkward hug.

"I wish this didn't have to happen," she murmured softly. "Count on Loki to come along and ruin things." Octavia pulled away from the hug, fixing her with a curious stare.

"What did he do to you?" Octavia blurted out, unthinkingly. The tall brunette's features hardened with pain and anger for a moment, and then she sighed.

"If I tell you, do you promise not to repeat it?" Octavia nodded, eager to finally hear the tale you'd been waiting for almost since she arrived.

"A long time ago," Sif began, "Thor and I were in love, and Loki was jealous. I don't know if he necessarily wanted me, or simply envied his brother's happiness. One of the main things that attracted Thor to me was my hair, for at one time it was as golden as the wheat fields."

Octavia gave her a sceptical glance, particularly her long, dark ponytail, but didn't say anything.

"That little sneak Loki thought it would be funny to cut off all my hair," Sif went on, her brow furrowing in remembrance. "I awoke one morning to find myself bald. Thor was furious of course, and it didn't take long to figure out who the culprit was. Loki asked the dwarves Brokk and Eitri to forge me new hair out of pure gold in order to escape Thor's wrath, but to spite him they made it out of the night itself, so that now my hair will forever be dark."

Octavia blinked at the fantastical tale, hardly able to believe it.

"I suppose we were young and foolish then," Sif added, "but I guess I've never been able to forgive him for that."

"Well, it was a rather nasty thing to do," Octavia said hesitantly. Sif nodded.

"Now I guess you understand why I don't trust him, although don't get me wrong, that wasn't the only time we clashed."

"Do you really think he'd mess with my memories for his own entertainment?" Octavia asked in a small voice. Sif wouldn't meet her gaze.

"For your sake, I hope he's above such things," she said at last, before giving Octavia one last hug and leaving her alone to walk back to her chambers.

With a heavy heart and weary limbs, Octavia pulled open the door, letting herself in, she glad that Deirdre wasn't about. Octavia didn't really feel like seeing anyone else this evening. Numbly she pulled on her nightgown and crawled between the soft, warm blankets, and for a brief moment, Octavia wished the bed didn't seem so big and empty.

Thoughts of the day's events chased each other around in Octavia's head, but at last sleep overtook her, and she began to dream.

**I am sooo sorry it has taken me so long to update! I also apologize for this crappy chapter Writer's block is a terrible beast...**


	12. A crazy dream

Octavia's alarm clock display said it was just a little after midnight. Octavia had only been asleep for a few hours. Rolling over and rearranging her pillow, she wondered groggily what had woken her up. The house was silent, the only noise coming from the occasional vehicle going by on the street below.

Octavia huddled deeper into her blankets, seeking their warmth. It was awfully chilly in her room all of a sudden, and she found the sudden shift in temperature rather odd. The slightest whisper of a breeze caressed Octavia's cheek, making her think she must have left her window open. That could account for the temperature drop.

Sighing in defeat, Octavia kicked off her sheets and crawled out of bed, shuffling over to the window and pulling the curtains back. It was closed.

It was at that moment that Octavia felt the hair on her neck stand on end, and she knew with sudden certainty that she was not alone. Turning slowly, Octavia prepared to scream when a cool hand clamped down over her mouth, stifling her.

The tall figure in front of Octavia was little more than a shadow, and as he moved Octavia heard the rustle of fabric and the slight clinking of metal. A long, slender arm encircled Octavia's waist in a grip of steel, pulling her against his hard body, and she felt the smoothness of leather against your bare arm.

A voice, low and silky smooth, whispered into in ear.

"Hush now, make no fuss and I promise I'll be gentle." His breath ghosted over Octavia's face, cool and carrying the scent of snow and ice. Octavia simply froze, too terrified to respond. "Good girl," he murmured approvingly, and he leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of Octavia's ear. "Now sleep, sleep and forget everything you have seen tonight."

His tone was so softly seductive that Octavia felt her eyelids grow heavy, and she went limp in his embrace. Blackness swirled around her tired mind.

* * *

When Octavia's eyes opened again, the bright sunlight that assaulted her senses both confused and frightened her. Flailing her arms as if she was drowning in the soft blankets that covered her, Octavia sat up with her heart pounding, breathing rapidly, and looked around at her surroundings.

Octavia was in her new room in Asgard, of course. The pale green bedspread looked almost luminescent in the morning light. Relaxing slightly, Octavia smoothed her hands over its softness.

"What a strange dream," Octavia murmured, shaking her head as if trying to shake the memory of it away. It had been so real, frighteningly real.

Trembling slightly, Octavia crawled out of bed, deciding to take a long bath. When she emerged, clad in a deep blue gown with a golden belt encircling her waist, Loki was perched on her mattress, waiting for her.

"Good morning," he said softly, giving Octavia a warm smile. He was wearing forest green trousers and knee high black boots. His slender abdomen was encased in a black and green doublet with a high collar and golden shoulder pieces that attached to a black cloak. His raven hair was swept back as usual, and the emerald jewels of his eyes sparkled especially bright this morning.

"Good morning," Octavia replied, smiling warily back at him. "You look nice today. Special occasion?"

"Do I need a special occasion to dress like the prince that I am?" he responded, cocking an eyebrow and flashing Octavia a toothy grin. He then produced something from his pants pocket and tossed it to her. Catching it, Octavia saw it was a beautiful red apple, identical to the one he had given her yesterday.

"A gift from me to you," he teased, but Octavia was not especially paying attention to him anymore. The cool fruit in her hand seemed to radiate some sort of inner light, captivating her and before Octavia even realized what she was doing, she had taken an enormous bite, then another, and another.

Octavia was certain she looked ridiculous, attacking the apple like it was going out of style, but she were somehow unable to stop herself until only the core remained. Octavia realized she was shaking again. Giving the apple core a rather worried glance, Octavia sat it quickly on the bedside table.

"W-where do you keep finding those?" Octavia stammered uneasily, sinking down onto the bed beside him.

"What do you mean?" Loki smiled. "It's just an apple, my dear." He was looking at Octavia as if he thought she was crazy. Maybe she was.

"I-I don't know, just forget it." Octavia rubbed her unusually moist palms on her dress. "Are we going to the hall for breakfast this morning?"

"If you wish." He looked down at her, and both eyes locked. Suddenly it wasn't just that apple that was incredibly tempting this morning. Something about the curve of his lips…

"No, stop that!" Octavia mentally chided yourself, tearing her gaze away as she gave herself a slap on the arm. What was wrong with her this morning? First that dream, then this.

"Are you feeling well?" Loki asked, looking concerned. He lifted a hand to lay it on Octavia's forehead. As usual, his skin was unnaturally cool. Octavia found herself wondering how he'd be able to tell whether she was ill or not if his body temperature was so low. He seemed to realize the same thing, for he removed his hand. Octavia ignored the sudden urge to take his hand and put it on her face again.

"I just had a weird dream, that's all," Octavia mumbled. When he tilted his head questioningly, she hesitated, but continued. "I dreamed I was sleeping in my room at home, and suddenly this man came into my room and…" Octavia paused, realization hitting her like a freight train. "It was you!"

Loki's smile flickered.

"What do you mean?" he asked rather sharply.

"I didn't realize it in the dream," Octavia went on rather breathlessly, "but now I know it was you, because his hands were cold…like…yours…" Octavia glanced awkwardly up at the prince, cheeks flushing slightly.

"That's ridiculous," Loki snapped. "It was just a dream, nothing more." Standing suddenly, he crossed the room to the door. "Are you coming for breakfast?"

Rather speechless at his odd reaction, Octavia nodded and joined him. He walked swiftly down the halls, an uncomfortable silence descending on the two of them until Octavia couldn't bear it any longer.

"Fandral thinks that perhaps I'm not human after all," Octavia said casually, watching him closely. "He says that maybe whoever brought me here altered my memories as well."

A muscle twitched in Loki's jaw, and he kept staring straight ahead.

"That's nonsense," he said hoarsely, before pushing open the doors to the dining hall and ushering the quite-annoying woman through.

**Hello! I hoped you enjoyed the next chapter, the next one will be up as soon as it can! Thanks to everyone who has followed and faved! And a big thanks to the people who have reviewed!**


	13. Golden Apples

OCTAVIA'S POV:

Breakfast was an awkward affair, not that it surprised me that much. Mealtimes in Asgard often seemed to be awkward. Or perhaps that was only because I was there.

When I asked about his absence the night before, Loki was not very forthcoming.

"I was in the library and I didn't feel like socializing," was all he said before turning his attention to his plate.

I attempted some conversation with Hogun, but soon noticed that he wasn't much of a talker, instead giving a lot of non-committal grunts and hums. Sif and Fandral seemed to be actually getting along for the time being, and were in a deep discussion about some sort of fighting move that Fandral had come up with, and Volstagg, well, he was eating.

Finally, I turned your attention to Loki.

"So, I'll bet the library here is huge, right?" I asked softly. He looked like I had startled him out of a deep thought.

"It's big enough, I suppose," he replied blankly. "No one here reads much aside from me."

"Does it have a lot of old books?" I probed, genuinely curious, as I was quite a reader myself.

"Hundreds, maybe thousands. Would you like to see it?" Loki's lips curled in a bit of a smile as he turned to me. "I can take you there after breakfast, if you like."

I nodded eagerly, fingers itching to hold one of the ancient books. Loki grinned broadly at me, and I felt my cheeks flush.

"It's nice to know there's a least one other person here who appreciates the pursuit of knowledge," he commented, before turning back to his food. I saw his gaze flicker momentarily to Fandral, and resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the petty feud.

After the meal, me and Loki exited the hall before the others, and almost didn't see the red-haired girl until I nearly crashed into her.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she gasped, and then upon recognizing Loki, smiled and curtsied. She was tiny and petite, and her curly orange hair was woven into a loose braid. Her blue eyes were enormous in her small, pointed face, and a splash of freckles dotted across her cheeks.

"Idun," Loki greeted her kindly, nodding in response to her curtsy. I saw she was carrying a basket covered in a soft blue cloth, and wondered briefly what was in it.

"You must be the human!" Idun chirruped excitedly, taking my hand in hers and beaming all over her young face. "I'm so happy to meet you at last! I am the Goddess Idun of Immortal Youth."

"Pleased to meet you," I responded, a little taken aback by her boundless energy. She giggled happily and curtsied again.

"Actually, Idun do you have a moment?" Loki asked suddenly. The girl had gone into a ballerina twirl of sorts and stopped so suddenly I feared she'd fall over.

"Why of course, Prince Loki," she replied brightly.

Loki turned to me.

"Go find Deirdre, she can lead you to the library," he said softly, reaching out a hand to gently cup my cheek. "I'll meet you there."

Blushing again and casting Idun a curious glance, I hesitantly turned and left them, wandering back the halls until I found the servant girl.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0 THIRD PERSON POV:

Meanwhile, Loki put an arm around Idun's shoulders, leading her aside.

"What is it you want, my Prince?" she asked, gazing up at him with all the innocence of a child. Loki often wondered how it was that this tiny thing was actually married to Bragi, God of Poetry. She seemed far too young and naïve; not that he was complaining. Her trusting nature had proven useful on many a different occasion.

"I was wondering if I may have another of your wonderful apples, my dear," Loki whispered, green eyes darting about to make sure they were not attracting attention.

"Another one?" Idun said incredulously. "But my lord, you just asked for one yesterday evening, and another the morning before that!"

"Yes, well I am feeling a bit under the weather as of late, you see," Loki lied easily. Idun nodded sympathetically and reached up to cup his sharply boned cheek in a tiny hand.

"You do look weary," she observed softly. "And I suppose I can spare one." Reaching under the soft blue cloth of her basket, she produced a gleaming golden fruit and laid it in his hand.

"Thank you, sweet Idun," Loki murmured, taking her hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I am indebted to you."

The girl giggled and blushed.

"Oh, it's no trouble! But I really must be going now, Bragi is waiting for me!" Giving one last curtsy, she turned on her heel and skipped merrily away to meet her lover.

Loki watched her leave, and smiled. Tossing the apple once and catching it, he slipped it into his pocket and strode off down the hall to the library.

0-0-0-0

Unbeknownst to the God of Mischief, his interaction with Idun had not gone unnoticed. Sif remaining concealed behind the pillar until she was certain Loki was out of sight before turning on her heel and marching quickly back into the dining hall, hoping to catch the others.

"And you're positive?" Fandral asked, leaning on the table and not taking his eyes off of the female warrior.

"Affirmative." Sif gave a short nod. "According to Idun, Loki has been to her twice before this as well, and all since the human arrived."

"This could mean nothing!" Volstagg boomed, spreading his hands. "The prince could be telling the truth!"

"Yes, because Loki always does that," Fandral said sarcastically.

"Watch how you speak," Thor warned. "There is no proof that my brother is up to anything. He could actually need the apples, for all we know. He has looked rather pale as of late."

"Loki always looks pale," Fandral sniffed. "It comes from spending all your time with your nose shoved in a book."

"The apples are to prevent aging," Hogun said slowly. "Perhaps Loki is concerned with his appearance?"

Fandral laughed.

"Now that is a possibility!" he joked. "We all know how besought the dear prince is with his own reflection!"

"I hardly think you are the one to accuse others of vanity, dear Fandral," Volstagg teased good-naturally, giving Fandral a slap on the back that nearly levelled him.

"Funny, Volstagg," he retorted, rubbing his shoulder. "At least some of us have looks to worry about."

"What was that?" Volstagg exclaimed, indignant, and reaching for Fandral, managed to hook the blond in a headlock. "Perhaps you'd like to have that pretty face rearranged?" Fandral squirmed, looking alarmed, and Volstagg laughed, rubbing the knuckles of one massive fist none too gently through the smaller man's perfectly coiffed hair.

"Not the hair!" Fandral groaned.

"Somehow I doubt that's what Loki is up to," Sif said, ignoring those two. "He put the apple in his pocket. He didn't even eat it."

"Perhaps he intends to eat it later?" Thor suggested, shrugging.

"I do not like to argue," Hogun interjected, "but there is a saying originating from Midgard that goes something like: 'Innocent until proven guilty.' I think it would be wise to stand by that in this case."

"Hogun is right," Thor agreed. "We must not jump to conclusions."

Sif let out an exasperated sigh and turned on her heel, ponytail flying, and strode towards the doors.

"Where are you going, Lady Sif?" Volstagg called after her.

"To get some answers," she replied without turning.

"Loki won't tell you anything, you know that," Fandral piped up.

"I know," Sif said, pausing before throwing open the doors. "I'm not going to Loki."

0-0-0-0-0-0

Idun and Bragi looked up in surprise as the female warrior approached them, her beautiful face grim.

"Lady Sif," Bragi greeted politely tipping his head in a respectful nod. His hair was as curly as his wife's, although he was a brunette. His soft brown eyes had always reminded Sif of those of a deer. "To what to we owe the gift of your presence this morning?"

Idun pressed close to her husband, gazing at him adoringly, and twined her fingers through his.

"Bragi, Idun." Sif gave a nod in return. "I have a few questions for your wife, if that is all right."

Bragi looked anxiously at his beloved, but reluctantly released her hand, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. She beamed at him and threw her arms around his neck to press a tender kiss to his cheek. Bragi gave Sif a smile.

"I will leave you to discuss what needs be discussed." Stroking his wife's cheek one last time, he moved away, leaving the two women alone.

"Whatever is the matter, Lady Sif?" Idun asked, wide-eyed.

"Nothing," Sif said hastily. "I was simply wondering if you've been receiving any unusual attention lately, say by a specific god?"

Idun tilted her curly head to the side in thought.

"I don't think so," she replied, chewing her lip.

Sif repressed the urge to sigh.

"I mean, has anyone been coming to you more often than usual lately?"

Again a pause as Idun thought hard, wrinkling her little nose.

"Prince Loki came to me this morning," she said at last. "He's come every day lately."

"And how long has this been going on?" Sif pressed. Idun lifted her hand, counting on her fingers.

"Three days," she answered. "He says he feels ill, so he's been asking for my apples."

"And you've been giving them to him."

"Of course!" Idun suddenly looked worried. "That's not wrong, is it?"

"No, no." Sif looked around before meeting Idun's gaze once more. The girl shifted uncomfortably, gazing longingly in the direction Bragi had gone. "Tell me, has he eaten any of the apples?"

Idun shrugged.

"I haven't seen him eat them, if that's what you mean."

"But can you tell if he has?" Sif took the girl by the shoulders, stooping so that she was eye to eye with her and softening her tone. "Please Idun, this is very important."

Idun looked bewildered and shook her head.

"If you like, you can have one." She reached into her basket and pulled out a golden apple. "I don't know if it will work, but you could eat it in front of a mirror and see if something changes."

Sif hadn't thought of that. Giving the young goddess a grateful smile, she took the fruit.

"Thank you Idun, I'll try that."

0-0-0-0-0-0

Now in front of a mirror, Sif paused. She felt silly doing this. What if it was all for nothing? What if Loki had been telling the truth?

"Can't hurt I suppose," she murmured, and took a bite, staring intently at her reflection. At first nothing changed, but as she reached the core, suddenly a strange thing happened. The dark smudges under her eyes from a rather restless night disappeared, her cheeks appeared rosier, and her eyes seemed to shine brighter. At the same time, she felt her body regenerate; tired aching muscles relaxed and strengthened, her thoughts became clearer.

"Amazing," she exclaimed softly. "There is a physical difference." Leaning closer, she gazed into her own dark eyes, noticing something unusual. Gold flecks were dancing in her pupils. She supposed it was another side effect of the apples, and probably wore off after a while.

But just how long would it last? Long enough to figure out who had been eating the magical fruit? Sif leaped to her feet, shoving the core in her pocket, and dashed out of her room.

0-0-0-0-0

Octavia held an enormous book in her hands, entranced by the colorful illuminations and curling script on its weathered pages.

"You won't understand a word that's written there," Loki commented. "That's an ancient language of the gods. Try this one." Gently pulling the volume from her hands, he handed her a smaller one.

Octavia flipped it open, astonished to find it was written in English.

"That's a spell book," Loki explained. "A relatively new edition and the spells aren't very potent. It's more for beginners."

Octavia nodded, entranced, and continued to leaf through the gilded pages until quite suddenly she came across a love spell.

"They actually have these?" Octavia asked, incredulous. Loki glanced over her shoulder and chuckled.

"Yes, unfortunately," he replied. "I don't find them to be particularly effective."

"You've tried them?" Now was Octavia's turn to giggle. Loki looked indignant.

"Of course I have. You don't think me completely immune to a woman's charms, do you?" He winked at her. Octavia had nothing to say to that, and instead turned her red face back to the simple rhyme.

"A love sighted, a love declared, unrequited, now is shared," Octavia murmured. Peeking up at Loki through her eyelashes, she saw him immersed in a book as well. He didn't even look over. Clearing her throat, she flipped through the pages until a spell caught her eye.

"Make nimble, make me light; that once grounded, now take flight."

"Loki!"

Startled, Octavia whirled around to see Lady Sif standing in the doorway. Sighing, Loki closed the book he was looking at and laid it on a reading desk.

"Can I help you?" Octavia could tell he was annoyed.

"Yes, actually you can." Sif moved across the library towards Loki, who stiffened instinctively. "I need to see your eyes."

"Well, here they are, in my face where they belong." Loki folded his arms, gazing down his nose at her. Sif leaned forward, squinting, but stepped back a moment later, a smug grin on her face.

"I knew it," she said, triumph in her tone.

"Would you care to explain what is going on?" he snapped, losing his patience.

"You've been to see Idun three times in the past three days," Sif announced, still smiling. "Three times you have asked for one of golden apples of youth, and yet you yourself have not eaten any of them, have you?"

Octavia thought she saw something like fear pass through Loki's emerald gaze.

"What's your point?" He spoke through clenched teeth.

"My point?" Sif repeated, planting her hands on her hips. "Who have you been giving the golden apples to, Loki?"

Golden apples? What was she talking about?

"What do you care?" Loki retorted. Sif laughed.

"Oh, come now Loki, we both know this isn't the first time there has been trouble surrounding those apples that could be traced back to you."

"That was a long time ago, Sif," Loki growled. "And Thiassi is dead."

"So if you're not sneaking them off to some Jotun, who are you giving them to?" Sif questioned softly, moving closer to Loki and causing him to take an uneasy step back.

"That's none of your concern."

"Well maybe I'll ask the human then." Sif turned to Octavia…and her mouth dropped open. "Oh…my…gods…"

Loki whirled around, gazing up at Octavia in horror.

Up at her?

Octavia's mouth went very dry. Slowly, she turned her gaze to the floor, which instead of being directly beneath her boots, was now about five feet below them. She was floating.

"How the Hel did she get up there?" Sif gasped breathlessly, staring at Octavia as if saw was a ghost.

"I'll be damned," Loki murmured, looking to the spell book Octavia still clutched in her hands. Then he spoke to Octavia, his voice oddly calm. "Read the next part of the spell now."

Numbly, Octavia looked at the page in front of her. The spell. The flight spell. She was flying. She was flying!

"What goes up must come down; that which flies, bring back to ground," Octavia read softly, and slowly she began to descend until her feet were on the floor once more.

"She's doing magic," Sif murmured in disbelief.

"Yes she is," Loki agreed, and Octavia thought she heard a hint of pride in his voice.

"Loki?" Octavia felt a little shaky all of a sudden, and as she stumbled, Loki was at her side, taking her by the arm. Sif moved closer, hesitantly.

"How did you do that?" she asked softly, staring into her eyes. Suddenly she drew in a sharp breath. "Gold flecks. It's you."

"What's me?" Octavia mumbled, feeling dizzy and completely confused by what was going on, her caramel hair felt like molten lava.

"You've been eating the apples."

**Anyway! Extra long chapter for my lovely readers! I don't really have much to say in the author's bit... :/ Oh well! Next chapter will be up soon! And I promise, this is becoming better!**


	14. Caught up in his own lie

Octavia's POV:

Apples? What was Lady Sif talking about? I met Loki's gaze with the question in my eyes, but he quickly looked away, his grip on my arms tightening slightly. My head was still spinning slightly from my unexpected flight, but I no longer felt as if my knees were made of pudding.

"Sif, I can explain." Loki's usually steady voice faltered slightly as he stepped toward the warrior maiden, a pleading look in his emerald eyes, but she backed away, dark eyes flashing as she pointed an accusing finger.

"You, this is all your doing!" she shouted at the Asgardian prince, who flinched slightly at the bite in her tone. "I should have known you were planning something right from the beginning! You brought her here, and now you are feeding her the Apples of Youth to make her like one of us!"

"Lady Sif, if you'd please just listen," Loki began again, but she cut him off, shaking her head, ponytail flicking.

"No, Loki! That's just the problem, everyone spends too much time listening to you, taking in every lie you feed us with your silver tongue!" She gave a bitter smirk. "So what's the plan this time, Lie-smith? Have you made a deal with someone who wants to harness her abilities?"

"Loki, what does she mean?" I questioned, feeling uneasy. A muscle jumped in Loki's jaw, but Sif allowed him to speak finally.

"I have made no deals, Lady Sif," he replied evenly. "As for the Golden Apples, they have nothing to do with what you just witnessed here. If you do not believe me, ask Idun. The apples merely give the gift of youthfulness and vitality to the one who eats them. They play no part in heightening magical abilities."

"If that is true, then how do you explain what just happened?" Sif indicated you with a nod. "A mortal of Midgard should not be able to work the magic of the Aesir."

"I agree," Loki said softly, sliding an arm almost protectively around my shoulders. "It is a mystery, that's for certain."

"Is it?" Sif's eyes narrowed. "Speak the truth Loki. What realm did you pull her out of?"

"It is as you say, she is from Midgard," Loki responded with a shrug. "Ask the girl. Her memories returned to her in the night; yet another unexpected development."

"What?" I pulled out of his embrace, and now it was my turn to glare at him accusingly. "You told me that it was just a dream!"

Loki looked uncomfortable, caught in his lie, and he cleared his throat, his silver-tongue momentarily leaden.

"So which is it, Loki?" Sif demanded, stalking forward and jabbing a finger into his chest. "Enough of the lies!"

"I am NOT lying!" Loki finally exploded back at her, startling the warrior maiden into silence. He turned to me, looking for backup, but I was not about to take his side, not after finding out that he lied to me about the dream. What else had he lied about?

"Listen," he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat, "and don't give me that look! I wanted to play a trick on the Aesir by bringing a mortal from Midgard here and giving her the Golden Apples of Youth. I wanted to make her immortal like us, and see how long it took anyone to figure it out. It was just a game, nothing more." He sighed again.

"What?!" I repeated, unable to believe my ears. This whole thing had been nothing more than a childish prank? Everything, the tickle fight, the magic rose, nothing but a game? I was hurt, I was more than hurt. I was pissed off. And why was everyone talking about apples, for Odin's sake?

Wait…apples? Suddenly I felt incredibly stupid. Of course it would be no great task for Loki to hide the true nature of the magical fruit from me; a simple illusion charm would do the trick. And he'd been slipping them to me daily since I had arrived.

"So wait, she is human right?" Sif cut in nervously, giving me an uneasy glance.

"I don't know, I mean she was… I think…" Loki groaned in frustration and buried his face in his hands. "If I had any idea how complicated this whole thing was going to be, I would have just cut Thor's precious golden locks instead."

"What if I'm not human?" I asked, looking at my own hands as if expecting to find something unfamiliar. "What happens then?"

"We need to talk to Heimdall," Sif said, folding her arms and giving a decisive nod. "He sees everything, he's sure to know something about what's going on here."

"Who's Heimdall?" I asked, struggling over the pronunciation of the strange name.

"The Guardian of the Bi-Frost, and the All-father's most trusted sentry," Loki muttered, clearly not thrilled with the prospect of speaking to this particular person. "He sees and hears everything that takes place in the nine realms."

"Wow, that must make for one big headache," I mused. "Wait, if he sees everything, he would have known all about your plan from the beginning, wouldn't he?"

"Well, some of it," Loki said, smirking. "I figured out a way to move about the realms undetected by him."

"Why am I not surprised?" Sif rolled her eyes. "So he doesn't actually know about the mortal's existence in Asgard?"

"He doesn't have a clue." Loki grinned, looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Well, he's about to. Come along," the warrior maiden commanded, taking me by the wrist before I could protest and pulling me out of the library. Loki hesitated for a moment before hurrying after us both.

"Wait, do you realize how much trouble I'll be in if he knows about her?" he cried, grabbing Lady Sif's shoulder. Sif turned, giving him a look of disgust.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before kidnapping some poor unsuspecting girl from Earth and feeding her magic fruit!"

"Halt!" a loud voice boomed, startling us all. Thor strode forward, the Warriors Three at his heels, and clinging to one thickly muscled arm walked Idun.

"Lady Idun has informed me of your deception, brother," Thor continued, jabbing Loki in the chest. "It's time to end the lies, Loki."

"Idun?" Loki looked at the tiny red-head incredulously. "But how did she know?"

"Just because I'm pretty doesn't mean I'm stupid," Idun beamed at him, winking a large blue eye. "I just normally don't like to get involved."

"And this time is different?" Sif asked, looking as surprised as Loki. Idun shrugged.

"I haven't forgotten the trouble Loki got me into with Thiassi," she explained. "After Lady Sif questioned me about my apples, I realized that the human could be in some sort of danger, so I went to Thor and the Warriors Three."

"They listened to you?" Sif gave Thor an accusing glare. He wouldn't meet her gaze. "Funny, they wouldn't take me seriously."

Idun shrugged again, biting her lip cutely.

"Well, everyone knows you hate Loki's guts," Fandral quipped, grinning. Sif sighed in exasperation.

"Look, this is all very interesting," Loki interrupted, "but right now we have a bigger problem on our hands. The mortal can work magic; Aesir magic."

"My apples don't do that!" Idun exclaimed in astonishment.

"Exactly," Sif said. "Something else is going on here, which is why we're going to Heimdall."

"But the All-father already spoke to the sentry," Thor objected. "Heimdall hasn't seen anything out of the ordinary."

"Yes, well someone figured out how to move outside of his sight," Sif explained, indicating Loki, who shrugged, smiling a bit.

"Do you think he'll be able to help?" Volstagg asked. "I mean, if he hasn't seen anything about her coming here…"

"He's seen her living on Midgard," Hogun pointed out. "He'll know if there's something wrong."

"Then we shall speak to the sentry," Thor announced grandly, pushing open the front doors to the palace and striding out, red cape flowing.

"Is he always so, you know…" I hesitated.

"Flashy? Over-dramatic?" Loki snorted in derision. "Don't get me started."


	15. The Adventure begins!

Loki hung back as Thor, Idun, Lady Sif, and the Warriors Three made their way through the heavy doors of the palace and onto the Bi-Frost, and he placed a gentle yet strong hand on Octavia's shoulder when she went to follow.

"Wait," he murmured into her ear, his breath tickling her cheek. It wasn't unpleasant but she stiffened and tried to pull away, still annoyed with him for lying.

"What?" Octavia asked sullenly, meeting his emerald gaze with a stubborn glare.

"Freeze time now. No questions." His tone was abrupt and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

"Why?" She asked suspiciously, studying his lean, handsome face for signs of trickery.

"Did you not hear me? I said 'no questions'. Now do it!" he hissed sharply, his grip on Octavia's shoulder tightening before he let go and stood back, watching her expectantly.

Casting an anxious glance at the others who were deep in conversation and had not yet noticed that she hadn't followed, Octavia held up her hands and focused as hard as she could, picturing an hourglass, the grains of sand ceasing to drop. It did not come as quickly as it had in the stables, but time did indeed stop, leaving only her and Loki free from its grasp.

"Excellent," Loki whispered with a note of awe in his voice. "Now then, time to make some minor adjustments." Now he did follow the others, coming up behind their frozen forms and moving first from one to the other, pausing momentarily before each of their vacant stares to whisper an incantation and wave his hand over their eyes. Curious, Octavia moved closer to get a better glimpse of what he was doing, and was just in time to see a faint blue glow light up Fandral's eyes before disappearing again.

"What are you doing?" Octavia asked uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other and glancing over her shoulder, even though she knew no one could see what was happening.

"Like I said, making some minor adjustments," Loki said softly, finishing his task and smiling at her. "I am erasing their memory of you."

"What?!" Octavia gasped, shocked and dismayed. He sighed.

"Don't you understand? It would be nothing if I were to be found out, after all I am the God of Mischief and this sort of thing is to be expected, but you," here he paused to trace a fingertip gently over Octavia's cheek, "you could be executed if you were found to be a threat to Asgard."

"But I'm not a threat!" Octavia croaked, her voice betraying her as she broke into a cold sweat. "Please, you have to believe me!"

"Oh, I do," Loki murmured, "but the Allfather might not see things the same way, which is why you need to disappear."

"D-disappear?" She stammered. "But how? You mean magic?"

"I hardly think performing more magic that you aren't supposed to be capable of will be helpful at the moment," Loki said dryly. "What I mean is I will send you away from here. Their memories will return to them eventually, like yours did when I used this same spell, and you need to be hidden when that time comes."

"Send me away?" The fear constricting Octavia's throat made her voice sound small and strained. "Why can't you just take me home?"

Loki shook his head.

"It's too late for that. The others know too much and all it would take is one conversation with Heimdall for it to all be over."

"But can't he just see me?"

"He won't think to look where I intend to hide you," Loki reassured, a small smile playing on his lips. "Heimdall can only see if he knows where to look."

"And where are you going to hide me?" Octavia whispered, fighting tears.

"Helheim, in the center of the Realm of Niflheim. More precisely, the House of Hel, my daughter." Loki paused, and smirked. "Also known as the Land of the Dead."

"Oh, lovely," Octavia groaned, beginning to think that turning herself over to Heimdall sounded pretty good.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Loki said, still smiling. "Hel is terrifying to be sure, but she is by no means an evil being. She will respect my wishes and keep you safe."

"Oh yay," Octavia mumbled unenthusiastically. Suddenly, a terrible thought occurred to her. "To go to Helheim, I don't have to be dead, do I?"

Loki laughed at the horrified look on her face.

"It would rather defeat the purpose of hiding you there to protect your life if I had to kill you to do it, wouldn't you say so?"

Octavia managed a small smile, having to admit that he did have a point.

"Sleipnir will have to bear you on his back by one of the hidden routes," Loki went on, pacing and absently pulling at his lower lip as he thought aloud. "He knows the way very well, but I shall have to cover for his absence in the meantime. That will not be easy."

Octavia nodded, deciding not to ask how he planned to do that.

"All right, it is settled then!" Loki laid a hand on her shoulder. "You may unfreeze time now, and then we must hurry to the stables."

Still nervous and afraid of what would happen next, Octavia obeyed him, and time released its stony grip on the realm. Almost instantly, Thor and the others paused in mid-step to look around, questioning what they had been doing. Loki grabbed Octavia's arm before they could turn around and spot her, they both took off at a run. He led the way, and Octavia did her best to keep up with his long legs.

Octavia didn't meet anyone on the way, and soon Loki was leading the eight-legged dapple-gray stallion out into the sunshine and softly explaining to him what he was to do. The horse bobbed his head in a sort of nod, his soft brown eyes focused on her with what she thought was a sympathetic expression.

"He understands you?" Octavia asked, amazed.

"Of course," Loki replied, smiling as he petted his son. "He cannot speak like you and I, but he has his own way of communicating."

Octavia nodded, not understanding in the slightest, and Loki saddled Sleipnir and helped her to mount.

"All right, off with you both," he whispered, laying on hand on Sleipnir's strong neck and another on Octavia's knee. "Have no fear, and I will return for you when it is safe."

"Wait, aren't you coming too?" Panic rose in Octavia's chest at the thought of being alone, and though she hated to admit it, she had grown rather fond of the prince's company, perhaps too fond.

"I cannot," Loki said with a hint of regret in his tone. "I must stay here and figure out a way to clear both our names." As Octavia's eyes locked, he took hold of her hand, brushing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles.

"I can see you still don't trust me, and I don't blame you, but you can believe me when I tell you this," he whispered. "I will come for you." Lifting Octavia's hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to her fingers, not unlike the first time they met, but this time he lingered, as if memorizing the warmth of her skin.

Heat rose to Octavia's cheeks, and a lump formed in her throat, but before she could say a word, he let go of her hand and gave Sleipnir a gentle slap on the hind quarters. The eight-legged stallion reared up, whinnying and almost tipping her off, before taking off at a brisk gallop. Octavia wrapped the reins tightly around her fists and twisted in the saddle to get one last look at the demi-god, as he stood alone, watching her go, his expression unreadable, raven-hair tossed by the breeze.

* * *

**Anddddd... This is where the adventure begins! **

**Hahahahaha see? Did I trick you? Huh huh? **

**Anyway, still many chapter to come! ~ See you next time! **


	16. What's Disney?

**Hello! Sorry for the late chapter. I plonked myself on the laptop with the Wicked soundtrack blaring out and wrote this in under a few hours! So I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**WARNING: Fight Scene, ****suspense bla bla bla. Cliffhanger... **

Loki turned, unable to watch her any longer, as he felt the uncomfortable and unexpected tightening of his throat, an odd prickle in the corner of his eyes. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he walked back towards the palace. The others would surely be returning soon, if they hadn't already, and he didn't want to run into any of them quite yet. He had something he must take care of first.

He marched swiftly and silently down the halls towards his chambers, deep in thought, and was not expecting to turn the corner and find Frigga waiting for him.

"Loki," the Queen said softly, stepping forward, concern etched on her lovely features. "Where is your companion?"

Damn. He hadn't thought of this. Frigga still remembered the human of course, and was sure to let something slip to the others if he didn't think of something to tell her to ease her mind.

Luckily, his tongue was accustomed to lying, and the words came as easily as if they were truth.

"She is in her room, Mother dearest," he replied smoothly, smiling. A smile to reassure his mother that nothing was wrong in the slightest. "I am going to her now."

"That is odd," Frigga replied, raising an eyebrow. "I just stopped by her chambers a moment ago looking for you both, and there was no one about."

Double damn. Loki merely blinked, not allowing his expression to waver in the slightest. False smile still on his lips, he let out a light-hearted chuckle.

"Perhaps she stepped out for a few moments, Mother," he replied. "No need to be so alarmed."

"You're right of course, my son." Frigga smiled now, cupping Loki's cheek lovingly in a small, slender hand. "I don't know why but I had this awful feeling like something had gone wrong. I must be growing foolish in my old age."

"Oh Mother." Loki embraced the older woman fondly. "Do not speak of yourself as such. You are still the most beautiful woman in Asgard to me."

"Oh my Loki," Frigga exclaimed, chuckling and lightly slapping his hand. "Do not tease so. Now off to your lady friend. She will be wondering what is keeping you."

"I will obey, my Queen," Loki replied, dipping into a bow.

"Oh and Loki," Frigga called back as he hurried away, mentally sighing in relief. "I do hope you are treating her well. She is a sweet little thing, and I think it is well for you to have a companion. You are far too inclined to lock yourself away in a room alone."

Loki paused in his step, his throat tightening again almost painfully. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he turned around to meet his mother's gaze, and smiled.

"Have no fear," was all he said, before continuing on his way.

He paused outside her chambers, realizing that should Frigga come back this way, she would be suspicious if she didn't find him here. Taking a deep breath, he entered the room and nearly knocked into Deirdre.

"Oh, Master Loki!" Deirdre exclaimed, clutching at her chest. "You did frighten me so!" Curiously, she looked over his shoulder. "Where is she?"

"Who?" Loki asked, feeling rather cross. If it wasn't bad enough that he had run into Frigga, now the maid was sure to be suspicious.

Deirdre giggled.

"Why, the girl, Master Loki. You haven't been separated long from one another since she arrived. I see the way you look at her too, and if it's not too bold to say, I think she is a good match for you," Deidre stammered quickly, and immediately bit her lip as Loki gave her a sharp look, but she took a deep breath and continued in a softer, conspiratorial voice. "I know you were the one who brought her here, too."

"And what of it?" Loki snapped. "She is a human and I am a god, a pairing that would never work."

"You're wrong," Deirdre said, meeting his gaze and holding it in a way that immediately made him suspicious. Since when did the servant girl have such backbone as to stand up to him?

"And what makes you think the match would work?" Loki asked slowly, raising a dark brow. Deirdre shook her head.

"I didn't mean you were wrong about that. I meant you were wrong about her being human." At this the blonde maid smiled, and her eyes held something that he hadn't noticed before, but that he recognized very well; mischief.

"What do you know?" Loki stepped forward; his demeanor changing from curious to threatening in an instant, but the servant girl didn't look alarmed.

"The girl is not of Midgard, my Prince," she said slowly, and although there was no mockery in her tone, he thought he sensed it anyhow. "It is true she was born and raised there, but her blood is not that of a human."

"Then what is she?" Loki growled, resisting the urge to grab the girl by the scruff of the neck.

"Hard to say," Deirdre mused. "It would take a conversation with Heimdall to be sure of how many generations have passed since her ancestors took refuge on Midgard, but I am honestly surprised that you didn't pick up on it earlier. I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on her."

"What are you not telling me?" Loki nearly shouted, this time grabbing the girl by the shoulders. His body was trembling all over, with fear or anger he wasn't sure.

"I am telling you all I know," Deirdre replied calmly. "But perhaps it's time you were honest with me about the apples."

Loki released her as if he had been bitten.

"How in Helheim did you know about that?" he hissed.

"I found one of the cores on the breakfast platter," she explained, smirking. "I would think the God of Lies would be a little more careful, but as I said it is apparent that you are quite distracted by this girl."

"Hold your tongue," Loki snapped. "You are forgetting to whom you speak. And tell no one of this! She is in enough danger as is, and I already had to temporarily wipe the memories of my brother, Lady Sif, and the Warriors Three."

"Danger?" Deirdre's mocking smile vanished, replaced with a look of alarm. "What has happened? Where is she?"

"I have sent her off, I know not where," Loki murmured, standing by his window and gazing down at the Bi-Frost. It was a lie, but he no longer completely trusted the blonde servant girl. Just as well, it was a mistake to trust people, as he had learned. He wasn't the only one capable of bending the truth. "Until now I have hidden her from Heimdall's watch, all part of a foolish prank. I did not intend upon her displaying powerful magical abilities and putting herself and I in mortal danger."

"Magical abilities," Deirdre repeated, astounded. "I did not know of this."

"It is well that you don't," Loki said sharply. "The fewer who know of her abilities, the better. It is enough that everyone suspects me of being the one who brought her here, and a punishment will surely await me for putting Asgard in such danger."

"She cannot be hostile," Deirdre said, desperation in her tone, and moved towards Loki. "I have spoken to her enough to know that she intends no harm."

"Aye, we know this, but who else has spoken to her often enough to make such a judgement?" Loki turned to Deirdre, green eyes hard as emeralds. "We must remain silent about this. The others will regain their memories soon enough, and by that time I hope to be able to salvage this situation."

"And what exactly will you do, Prince Loki?" Deirdre crossed her arms and stared out the window as well. "You cannot hide her forever."

"No, but if she is dead, I won't need to." His tone had such finality to it that Deidre gasped in alarm.

"You cannot mean that, my lord!" Forgetting herself, she grasped his arm. "Please, do not take her life in order to clear your own name!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Loki spat, pulling his arm away. "I will not touch a hair on her head! It only needs be believed that she is dead, and then I can send her home and everything can return to normal."

"She will not be forgotten," Deidre commented softly, her large eyes sad.

"No," Loki murmured in agreement. "No she won't."

* * *

Octavia was not accustomed to horseback riding as it was, so she took it as a blessing that Sleipnir didn't need instruction on where to go. Clinging to his strong neck as he galloped, Octavia tried not to think about her destination, but terrifying images assaulted her imagination. The Realm of the Dead. What was she in for? Monstrous skeletons, white red-eyed Hell Hounds? Or more appropriately, Hel Hounds.

"You needn't be so frightened, my dear."

The soft voice came out of nowhere, startling Octavia so she nearly lost her grip on the eight-legged stallion and toppled off. Octavia whipped her head around, almost expecting to see Loki mounted behind her, but there was no one to be seen anywhere.

A soft chuckle sounded, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Look down."

Octavia obeyed, and saw no one but Sleipnir. The horse?

"Sleipnir?" Octavia felt odd speaking aloud, for she was certain that the voice she was answering could only be heard by her. The horse whinnied, and laughter sounded simultaneously, but it wasn't mocking laughter.

"You didn't believe I could talk," Sleipnir said, tossing his mane as he trotted over the terrain, which had gone from lush and green to barren and rocky.

"I must say, it's a bit of a surprise," Octavia admitted, unable to keep from smiling. A talking horse, how very Disney.

"What's Disney?" the stallion asked.

"You're reading my thoughts," Octavia gasped, still speaking aloud although now you knew it was unnecessary.

"Of course," Sleipnir replied, as if it should have been obvious. "How else would I have recognized your fear? I also see that my mother occupies many of your thoughts."

"Mother?" Octavia asked, thoroughly confused. Suddenly she remembered and burst out laughing. "Oh, Loki!"

"Who else?" Sleipnir sounded rather injured. "Why is this amusing to you?"

"Never mind," Octavia giggled. "What else can you see in my thoughts?" Suddenly she felt rather violated.

"I don't look too deeply," Sleipnir said quickly, obviously sensing her discomfort. "I have a deep respect for the innermost thoughts of others and do not look into them unless it is needed."

"Oh, well thank goodness for that," Octavia sighed in relief, blushing a bit at the idea of someone seeing all of her darkest secrets.

"You do not need to hold on so tightly, my dear," Sleipnir commented. "I will not toss you off."

Rather reluctantly, Octavia straightened up, releasing her death grip.

"Thank you," Sleipnir chuckled gratefully. A silence fell for a moment, but was broken by an odd sound on the wind. It was a deep rumbling.

"Was that thunder?" Octavia asked, looking up. The sky wasn't completely clear, nor did it look ready to storm. She felt Sleipnir pick up the pace.

"No, that was not thunder," he said in a low voice. "Keep your head down. I don't think we are alone."

The rumbling sounded again, closer this time, and Octavia realized that what she had previously mistaken for thunder was most definitely animal.

"Do I dare ask what is making that noise?" She whispered into Sleipnir's velvety ear.

"Be quiet," the stallion ordered sharply, swiveling his ears around. Octavia could see his large brown eyes dart about warily. He slowed down, raising his muzzle to the wind.

"That smell," he murmured. "I know it, but I know not where I have scented it before."

Another growl sounded, terribly close by now. Octavia looked around, trying to locate the source of the noise, but the barren landscape was covered in enormous boulders, capable of concealing whatever it was that was most definitely stalking you.

"Sleipnir, maybe we should keep running," Octavia hissed, heart hammering with fear.

Suddenly the stallion let out a cry of alarm, and something enormous smashed into them, knocking Octavia clean off his back. Octavia hit hard on her right side, and her wrist gave out with a sickening crack. White hot pain shot up her arm, and she tasted bile in her throat.

Whatever it was that had knocked into them spun back around and charged again at Sleipnir, who had fallen as well, but seemed more stunned than anything. The eight-legged stallion got to its feet and reared, hooves connected with razor sharp claws. Octavia blinked through the haze of pain, trying to get a good look at the thing.

It resembled a grizzly bear by its thick brown fur, but was at least five times larger than any bear Octavia had ever seen, and its head wasn't quite right, with blazing red eyes and dog-like snout with enormous dripping fangs. Its ears were like those of a deer, and sprouting from its broad skull was a gigantic set of antlers.

The beast lowered its head and used those antlers to hook beneath Sleipnir and toss him as easily as if he were a rag doll. The stallion landed in a crumpled heap, letting out a whinny of pain.

"Sleipnir," Octavia gasped, trying to get to her feet, but the stallion's voice rushed around her.

"No, stay down! It's a bilgesnipe; they only attack what's moving! Stay down and stay quiet! I'll lure him away!"

But it was too late. The great ugly beast had noticed Octavia. Turning and snarling, saliva flying from its jaw, it lowered its head and stalked toward her.

"Sleipnir!" Octavia shrieked, trying to scramble away backwards, cradling her right arm. The bilgesnipe opened its great maw and roared, hot rancid breath making her eyes sting, and reached out with a deadly paw to deal the killing blow. Octavia squeezed her eyes shut, but instead of feeling the claws tearing her flesh, she heard a pained gurgle.

Opening her eyes, Octavia saw the bilgesnipe stumble, and then topple over unceremoniously. It gave a single twitch before going still. Upon closer inspection Octavia saw the reason why. A battle axe rose from the back of its massive skull, an axe with a handle that looked suspiciously like a bone.

Glancing over at Sleipnir, Octavia saw him desperately trying to rise to his feet, but one of his eight legs was hanging at an awkward angle, and he collapsed again, large brown eyes gazing at her in fear.

"Sleipnir!" Octavia called out, trying to rise, when suddenly a black shadow was in front of her and a thin white hand was reaching for her face.

Octavia let out a scream, and then knew nothing more.


	17. Forgotten Memories

**Hello! Back again, sorry about the cliffhanger in the last chapter (Not) Anyway as always here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

**WARNING: Contains gore and blood. **

Loki held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Just do it Deirdre, it doesn't have to be pretty."

"B-but Prince Loki," Deidre breathed, sounding near tears as she brandished the glistening blade in both hands, obviously unaccustomed to wielding a weapon of any kind.

"Deirdre." Loki's tone was sharp and commanding, making her jolt in surprise, her face flushing hot with shame. His emerald eyes snapped open again to fix on hers. "Do as I ask. As your Prince, I command you!"

"All right, all right!" Deidre exclaimed, blinking furiously and trembling as she moved closer, bringing the tip of the dagger to Loki's chest.

"You'll have to put some effort into it if it's to be convincing," Loki instructed, closing his eyes again. "Battle scars are not created by weak, trembling hands."

"I don't want to hurt you," Deirdre murmured.

"It won't be all that bad, you'll see," Loki reassured, but his tone was not convincing. The servant girl could hear the fear in his voice, no matter how hard the God of Mischief tried to hide it under a mask of indifference. Still, she clenched her jaw and dug the blade through the leather armour and into flesh, hearing a soft gasp of pain escape her lord's lips.

Still shaking, but firm in her resolve, she drew the blade in a curved line from his collarbone to his navel. Loki screamed, and she let go of the handle, stumbling back with a sob of horror. The dagger remained in place, jutting out of his armour like an extra appendage, and already crimson blood had begun to seep from the wound, staining the leather and dripping to the flagstones.

Loki stumbled as well, reaching up to grasp the hilt of the dagger and pulling it from his body with a wet, squelching noise that made Deidre nearly vomit. Feeling faint, she searched for a handhold behind her and her fingers closed on the edge of a small table. She looked behind her, noticing a vase with a red rose, which was beginning to wilt.

"Thank you," Loki murmured hoarsely, looking ghastly pale. Deirdre had a horrible thought. What if the injury was too much and he actually died? She looked at her hands, seeing the flesh stained with his lifeblood, and let out a soft moan, sinking to her knees.

"Deidre," Loki whispered, holding out a hand to her, although he himself looked like he was having difficulty standing, his delicate features crumpled in pain. "I need to you be brave for me, Deirdre," he was saying. "I need your strength right now, do you understand?"

"But Loki," Deirdre began, forgetting proper titles for the moment as tears slid down her cheeks.

"This was the plan, remember? This is what we planned," Loki reminded her. "Do not fear for me. Dispose of the dagger and mention this to no one. I must go find the others now."

"Will you be all right?" Deidre asked, pulling herself to her feet once more and taking the dagger gingerly from his outstretched hand, as if afraid it would bite her.

"I've had worse," Loki said, forcing a smile, although he clutched his midsection as he did so. "Won't leave but a scratch when we're done."

With a flash of blue light, he disappeared suddenly, leaving the blonde maid to stare at the bloodied spot he had just been standing in.

"This is most strange," Thor commented to the others as he, Idun, Sif, and the Warriors Three walked the halls together, discussing the unusual events that had transpired. "I have this feeling like we are forgetting something terribly important, but my mind has gone entirely blank."

"I don't like it," Sif muttered. "This has Loki written all over it."

"Well what can we do?" Fandral asked, spreading his hands in defeat. "If we cannot remember what it is he has done, how can we even begin to accuse him of anything?"

"Why are you all so certain this is my brother's doing?" Thor thundered, whirling on the others. They all simply stared at him.

"Well, it is rather suspicious," Hogun admitted quietly. "Even you said so yourself."

"Idun!" a soft voice called out, and Bragi God of Poetry came running up to the group, sweeping the Goddess of Youth into a gentle embrace. "Where have you been my love?"

"I have been with the Prince and his companions," Idun answered, smiling, but even her bright cheerful nature seemed somewhat subdued, as she too felt as if something was horribly wrong.

"Ah yes," Bragi said, tipping her face to look at his. "And what have you learned from your talk with Heimdall?"

"Heimdall?" Thor stepped forward, one brow raised. "Of what do you speak, Bragi? We have not been to see the Guardian."

The God of Poetry looked dumbfounded.

"Then I am lost, for my wife told me that you were off to speak to Heimdall about the mortal girl, Loki's most recent companion."

"Mortal, what mortal?" Idun took her husbands face into her hands, gazing into his eyes. "What mortal, my love?"

"There is no mortal," Fandral said, looking around at his companions. "Right?"

"I have not heard anything about a mortal," Sif agreed, nodding. "Are you sure you are not mistaken, Bragi?"

"As sure as I am standing here, my lady, there is a mortal in Asgard," Bragi declared, squaring his shoulders.

"Wait." Everyone turned to Volstagg who had spoken. "Perhaps Bragi is speaking the truth."

"What, have you heard something, good Volstagg?" Thor demanded, clamping a hand on the big man's shoulder.

"No," Voltagg said slowly, shaking his shaggy head, "but we were on the BiFrost, were we not? That is where Heimdall keeps his watch. Bragi's story makes sense if you think about it."

"Volstagg is right," Hogun said, nodding. "I remember now. We had to speak to Heimdall about something urgent."

"But I cannot remember a thing!" Fandral exclaimed. "It is as if someone has wiped my memory clean!"

"Loki," Sif said simply. "Has anyone seen him recently? I seem to recall him being here, but now he's nowhere to be found."

"You think Loki is hiding something from us?" Thor asked, still unwilling to believe his brother to be guilty, but anxious to understand what was going on.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Fandral said darkly, and the others nodded in agreement. "But what I want to know is what Idun has to do with any of this."

"I was giving him my apples," Idun said softly. "I remember now. He wanted my apples."

"But he wasn't eating them," Sif said slowly, as the dawn of realization lit up her eyes. "Loki wasn't eating the apples, he was giving them away."

"To whom?" Fandral asked, exasperated.

"To the mortal," Bragi replied. "At least, that's what Lady Sif suspected."

"I did?" Sif blinked rapidly, trying to recall the memory.

"That is a rather serious crime," Thor admitted, "but not serious enough to need to involve Heimdall."

"Maybe that wasn't the whole of it?" Volstagg offered, shrugging. "Perhaps there was something else?"

"There is only one thing we can do," Lady Sif said, folding her arms. "We must find Loki."

"That won't be hard." Fandral pointed behind them, and sure enough, the raven-haired prince was limping towards them. Limping?

"Loki!" Thor called out, and upon realizing his brother's condition, rushed to his side, all suspicions momentarily forgotten.

"Brother," Loki rasped, before he collapsed to the ground.


	18. Come over here

In the healing room, Loki lay shirtless and reclined on a soft sofa, allowing the healer to work his magic on his wounds. He had come to, and although a little more pale than usual from his injuries, he was able to answer the questions that his brother, Lady Sif, and the Warriors Three had for him. And they had some very serious questions.

"It is true that your memories were wiped," Loki replied slowly, letting out a soft grunt as the healer applied some sort of balm to the deep scar that marred his otherwise flawless abdomen. "But you must understand my position. While it is true that I brought the girl here, I had no knowledge of her true nature. She had successfully hidden it from me. I was just as surprised as any of you that she was capable of such powerful magic." Here he paused, laying his head back with a heavy sigh.

"I had thought her harmless, regardless of her abilities, and yet it appears I was sadly mistaken. Luckily I guessed her plan and was able to deflect her Time Binding spell so that it only hit the rest of you. She didn't realize that I was still mobile and tried to flee to the stables, so I followed her in the shadows, and was there in time to see her saddle my son, Sleipnir." He gritted his teeth in anger.

"She must have sensed my presence however, for she grabbed a dagger that someone must have left lying around, and attacked me. We fought, and she managed to deal me this wound before leaping on Sleipnir and escaping."

"Your wounds will be avenged, brother!" Thor declared. "I swear, I, Sif and the Warriors Three will hunt down the traitorous wench and destroy her!"

"No!" Loki blurted, perhaps a little too quickly. The healer gave him a sharp look, but the others didn't seem to notice. "I mean, let me go after them. She is holding my son hostage, after all."

"You are barely well enough to sit up on your own, let alone track down a dangerous magic wielder," Fandral quipped, folding his arms.

"Are you forgetting that I am a demi-god?" Loki asked, smirking. "I shall be fit to set out before sunset."

"Loki," Thor rumbled. "Do you think it wise to pursue her on your own? She already tried to kill you once, and we have all seen how advanced her magic is. It could very well be that she is more than you could handle."

Loki frowned, his ego not taking well to such a remark.

"When she first arrived in Asgard, did I not take full responsibility for her?" he snapped. Thor looked about to answer, but Loki cut him off. "The Allfather himself gave me the duty of watching over her and ensuring that she was neither threatened nor a threat."

Rising from the sofa, Loki got to his feet and walked over to face Thor, his step surprisingly steady despite the wound that still gaped across his chest.

"I will see to it that the girl is brought to justice, I and I alone," he hissed, green eyes icy. Thor could do nothing but agree with his younger brother, and it was arranged that he would set out by sundown.

* * *

Octavia's POV:

Meanwhile, I was just starting to come to. The first thing I noticed was how gray my surroundings were. Everything was different shades of gray, even the dead trees that stuck up from the dry, cracked earth, which itself was colorless. The sky was covered in clouds, as if ready to rain, and yet the air I tasted was so dusty and arid that I had the sneaking suspicion no drop of water had hit the ground here in a long time.

Disoriented, I tried to lift my hand and let out a cry of pain. Looking down, I saw the reason why. My right wrist was broken, and had been clumsily bandaged by some unknown person. As the memories of the bilgesnipe attack came flooding back to me, panic filled my chest.

"Sleipnir!" I called out, getting shakily to my feet and stumbled forward a few steps. I was alone, surrounded on both sides by the steep walls of a rocky cavern. "Sleipnir!" Rushing forward, I stumbled over a rock and nearly fell. Where was I? Where was the eight-legged stallion?

A gasp of horror escaped my lips as I remembered the axe rising from the back of the bilgesnipe, the axe with the bone handle, and finally, the cloaked figured that I had seen last.

So was that it? Was I dead, and this some sort of place of limbo? Everything else here was certainly dead. But no, the dead didn't feel pain, and my arm was throbbing like nobody's business. So if I was not dead, where was I?

"My, my, aren't you a sorry sight?" A deep, gravelly voice echoed off the walls of the cavern around me, making me jump and whirl around, searching for the speaker.

"W-who said that?" I stammered, wishing I had a weapon on me. The voice chuckled mockingly.

"Look up, princess," it rumbled. And then I saw him, or rather, it. Large, gleaming golden eyes set on either side of a broad skull, a long, slender muzzle with a pink tongue lolling out between rows of sharp, white teeth, and pointed ears that swiveled towards me. At first only the head was visible from where I stood, staring up at the rocky outcrop, but then the creature stood, and moved forward with a strange clanking noise. My mouth dropped open as as stared at the biggest, blackest wolf I had ever seen.

"My, but you're a tiny one," the wolf practically purred, cocking its head to the side. "Wouldn't make much more than a mouthful."

Feeling faint at the suggestion, I braced myself to run in case the wolf should come after me, but it made no moves.

"Who are you?" I demanded, sounding braver than I felt.

"Who am I?" The wolf grinned, if that was possible. It was not a nice grin. "Surely you have heard of me, the Great Wolf."

"I'm sorry, no," I replied, trembling. The wolf laughed; a sharp, barking laugh.

"I am called Fenrir the Terrible, the eldest of the offspring born to Loki, God of Mischief by the Jotun Angrboda!" the wolf bellowed, and I could swear the walls of the cavern shook. "And I eat little mortals like you for dinner, so why don't you come up here and let me feast on your flesh?"

"Fenrir?" I repeated, hardly daring to believe your ears. "And no, I'd rather not, thank you very much."

"Such a pity," Fenrir growled, lying back down so that only his head was visible again. "If I could come down there, you wouldn't have a choice."

"Why can't you?" I asked, immediately wishing I hadn't, for the growl Fenrir let loose nearly made my knees give out in fear.

"I am chained to this accursed rock, that's why!" Fenrir roared, and now the walls did shake, rocks coming loose and smashing on the ground. "Until the bloody Ragnarok I am to remain here!" The wolf looked down at me, eyes glinting maliciously. "I saw the creature that brought you here and patched your wrist. You should be grateful that it didn't suck the soul out of you on the spot."

"W-what?" I stammered, looking first at my wrist, then back to the monstrous wolf. Fenrir leered.

"Of course, don't you know one of Hel's soldiers when you see them?" He barked with laughter again. "Oh my darling sister would never take the life of anyone, but it is not her place to protect it either! Not unless this person was very, very special."

"Are you saying I'm special?" I asked, remembering how the cloaked figure had taken out the bilgesnipe before it attacked.

"Well are you?" Fenrir sneered. "You don't look special to me. But why don't you ask her yourself?"

"Who, Hel?" I blinked in surprise.

"Of course." Fenrir rolled onto his back, and for a moment all I saw were enormous paws flailing in the air before he righted himself again. Just like a big dog. "If you follow this cavern, you'll come to the river Gjoll, and the bridge Gjallarbru. Beyond that bridge is Hel-Gate, and beyond that, Helheim."

"Why are you helping me?" I questioned, suspicious all of a sudden. I didn't trust this wolf.

"The scent of my father is strong on you," Fenrir growled. "If not for that, you would not get a word out of me." Laying his head down, he fell silent, golden eyes shut as if sleeping. Deciding I wouldn't get anything else from him, I glanced down the length of the cavern.

The original plan was for Sleipnir to take me there anyway, but since the stallion was nowhere to be seen, it was obvious that the rest of this journey would be mine to take alone. Glancing back at the silent wolf, I smiled a little.

"Thanks, Fenrir." I could have sworn you heard a muffled grunt.

**Hello! Very quick update today, as I love you all! Thanks for all the amazing reviews and favs! Hope you enjoyed the next chapter#**


	19. Daydreams about a man she can't have

"Are you certain about this, Loki?" Thor asked with concern. "I could ride with you. We all could. There is no need to face her alone."

Loki gave Thor a meaningful glance, and the blonde warrior fell silent, stepping back almost submissively as Loki mounted a large black stallion, dressed in his full armour complete with golden horns and a green cloak.

"I shall send word to both the Einherjar and the Valkyries to be ready for battle, should things not go as planned," Lady Sif offered, tipping her dark head to Loki in an unusual show of respect. She was careful not to say what would really happen should Loki find this battle to be more than he could handle alone, though everyone was thinking it; everyone aside from the raven-haired prince himself of course, who merely tilted his head in acknowledgment to Sif's words and pointed his stallion to the horizon.

"Safe journey, my brother," Thor said softly, giving the horse's hind-quarter a gentle slap. Loki smiled and called out to the stallion, digging his heels into its sides. The horse responded with a whinny before breaking into a steady gallop that took the prince out of sight within minutes.

* * *

Octavia's POV:

I stood on the edge of a precipice, staring down into the rushing waters below. The River Gjoll, just as Fenrir had described it. The waters were dark as pitch and roared threateningly. Lifting my gaze, I saw the bridge the Great Wolf had mentioned as well, a narrow craggy arch that looked as old as the land itself, spanning the distance of the ravine.

It was quite a drop from the bridge to the waters, and I felt dizzy even contemplating the next part of my journey, but summoned all my courage and placed a tentative foot onto the bridge. When it didn't immediately crumble beneath my boot, I took courage and took another step.

The bridge was barely wide enough for a person to cross on foot, with no rails or ropes to grasp for balance. As I inched my way further along, the arch rising higher and higher above the chasm, the wind buffeted me as if determined to toss me off, and I let out a yelp of terror, collapsing to my knees on the rough hewn stone. As I accidentally put pressure on my broken wrist, pain seared through my arm. Every limb trembled, and tears sprang to my eyes as I began to doubt my ability to complete this journey.

"I can't do this!" I whimpered, huddling against the rock face and squeezing my eyes shut, unable to look at the great expanse beneath me for fear of fainting with fear. "Why did Sleipnir have to leave me alone?"

Remembering the stallion's valiant struggle against the bilgesnipe and the way his leg was skewed at such a sickening angle afterward, I reasoned with myself that he wouldn't have been much assistance to me now anyway. It still would have been nice to have his calm voice to talk me through this dreadful passage. Even better, to hear Loki speak my name, for him to gather me in his arms and chase my fears away.

I shook my head, expelling such thoughts. I'd never make it to Helheim if I didn't at least try. Taking a deep breath, I rose to my feet, and staring straight ahead while trying to imagine the bridge to be nothing more than regular, solid earth, I moved forward again. Slowly, step by step, one foot in front of the other, I crossed the bridge Gjallarbru and found myself setting foot on the opposite side at last.

Grinning like a fool at my accomplishment, I let out a relieved sigh and marched forward, much more confident than before, certain that the worst was now behind me. My face was quick to fall again when I laid eyes on Hel-Gate.

It was a gate for certain, if gates were typically made of wrought iron bars that were larger round than my entire body and that stood twenty stories tall within stone walls that were as thick as a city street. My heart sank as I realized there was no possible way I'd be able to open them by myself, and certainly not with an injured wrist.

One does not simply walk into Helheim, apparently.

There was not a guard in sight, which struck me as odd on its own. Moving forward slowly, I scanned the wall, looking for any possible way in.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice lost on the wind. "Is there anyone here?"

There was no reply, so I ventured closer, eyeing the walls nervously as if expecting arrows to start flying.

"Hello?" I tried again, raising my voice. "I was sent by Loki! I need to speak to Hel!"

Still no reply, and I was beginning to feel very frustrated, when suddenly there was an enormous creaking noise, and the monstrous gates swung open seemingly of their own accord.

"Enter!" A female voice, dark and hollow, echoed around me, making me shudder all over. Swallowing hard, I obeyed, passing through the gates. Once in, they swung shut behind me again with a deafening clang.

I was now in an empty courtyard of sorts, with a large fountain in the center, but it was bone dry.

"Enter the hall!" the voice commanded suddenly, startling me. I looked around, searching for the owner and the hall she spoke of, but instead I saw something that made my blood run cold. Where I had previously thought I was alone in the courtyard, I could now see shadows moving about, shadows with no bodies. They flitted along the walls and settled on stone benches, and they all seemed to be gathering around me. And then the whispering began, soft at first, but growing like a rushing wind as more and more shadows appeared.

"Who is she?"  
"She is not dead!"  
"She reeks of the living!"  
"A trespasser?"  
"A friend of Loki's, she said."  
"But is she a friend to us?"

Startled and horrified, I tried to back away from the shadows but they were everywhere, reaching out with pale, translucent hands, and now features began to take shape, an eye here, a nose there. Drifting in and out of her sight, faces surrounded me, male and female, young and old, hair drifted about shoulders as if tossed on an unfelt breeze.

"Enter the hall!" the voice repeated itself, and the shadows melted away as if chased back, their whispers hushed once more.

The shadows had moved to create a sort of pathway between them leading to another door, this one made of obsidian with large, bone-white handles. Trembling, I walked through the all but invisible crowd and reached up a hand to the door, but before I had to even touch it, it swung away, revealing a majestic yet dismal hall.

High, arched windows with stained glass let in some dim light, painting the dusty stone floor in bloody reds and sickly greens, and the red carpet beneath my feet was so old and worn that I wouldn't have been surprised if it had disintegrated as soon as I stepped onto it. Tapestries hung on all sides, richly embroidered and depicting tragic scenes, but they too were in a great state of disrepair. Ancient candles sat in sconces covered in cobwebs and dust.

Stifling a sneeze as I breathed in the stale air, I squinted at the far end of the hall which lay in shadow. I thought I could see a high backed throne, and on it, a shadowed figure. Other figures in dark cloaks stood sentry beside the throne. Remembering the cloaked figure with the skeletal hands that had saved me from the bilgesnipe, my throat constricted in fear.

"There is no need to be frightened, child," the figure on the throne said, the owner of the voice that had called me here. "I mean you no harm. Come closer and let me gaze upon you."

Heart thudding I obeyed, cautiously approaching the throne. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see that the figure on the throne was not much taller than me, but hunched like an old woman. She was wrapped in a heavy, thick cloak that completely obscured her face and body. Was this Hel, I wondered.

"I am Hel, Queen of the Dead," she replied as if I had asked the question aloud. "And you are a friend of my father's. A very close friend."

I was startled that she knew this much, but before I could ask how, she rose from her throne, reaching for a walking stick I had not previously noticed. The hand that emerged from the cloak was small and delicate, and grasping the walking stick, she transferred it to the still concealed hand and leaned heavily on it before limping down the four steps descending towards where I stood.

"You are not accustomed to meeting royalty, I assume?" she asked in a bemused tone, and it was only then that I realized I had not even bothered to curtsy, let alone address her with proper titles. Flushing with embarrassment, I hastily bowed my head and apologized, drawing a soft chuckle from Hel.

"It's all right girl, I'm not going to eat you," she assured me, stepping closer. It was at this moment that I recognized the horrid stench of decay as it rose to my nostrils, choking me. It took me a moment to realize that it came from Hel, who stood very still, watching me from the blackness of her hood.

"Yes, it is true," Hel said softly, "that what lies beneath this cloak is not for the faint of heart or stomach. My father's sins have brought this curse upon me, I suppose, but do not fear, I hold nothing against him. It is often that we are too quick to look upon the outer appearance and judge the soul by what we can see only with our own two eyes. When you live as I have, you learn to look past the thin film of perception to the truth within."

At this, Hel raised her head and her hand at the same time, pulling the hood off and revealing her face to me at last.

* * *

**Hello! I hoped you enjoyed the next chapter to the story.**

**I got a lovely PM asking how long it took me to plan and write a chapter, for this story. Well, planning normally takes up to a hour (I plan it in class) Ha. Then 2-4 hours writing it, I know. It take's a while but I love the outcome and feedback! Thank you all! **

**Sorry for any mistakes, or anything messed up (Pretty much the same thing) But yeah. **

**Meow. **


	20. Lukas

Octavia's POV:

The gasp that issued from my lips was involuntary, but Hel did not seem bothered by it. The face that stared back at me was horrific, to say the least. I could easily see now why she wore the hood.

One half of Hel's face was as beautiful as her father, with pale translucent skin, a dark inquisitive brow over a sparkling emerald eye, and long, silken black locks. Her pink lips almost curved into a subtle smile on that side, while on the other, they drooped and eroded away, revealing the white bones of teeth and jaw beneath. The nose was all but gone, and the eye an orb of glowing amber like a flame sat deep in the sunken flesh, staring unblinkingly. Her hair was gray and matted and hung greasy and sparse over her hunched shoulder and the skin itself was rotted through in many places, the open sores oozing.

I felt instantly ill but somehow couldn't bring myself to look away.

"Look upon me, and know that what you see is not a reflection of what's within," Hel said softly, only the good side of her mouth moving properly to form the words. "Do you believe this, Midgardian?"

Silently I nodded before finally managing to utter, "Yes."

"Do you?" Hel smiled slightly, raising her one perfect brow. "Speaking of that which is not as it seems, you are very far away from home, and I do not mean Midgard."

"What?" My eyes widened at this, my jaw falling slack. "What do you mean, how could you know…" I trailed off, bewildered. Hel pointed to the rotted side of her face, where her eye glowed like fire.

"With this eye, I see all truth, no matter how carefully hidden," she explained, "even truths that you may not realize yourself. I can see your true heritage, although someone has gone to great pains to conceal it."

"What am I?" I choked, feeling tears rise as all the fears born in Asgard were confirmed.

"Do not weep, it is no crime that you have committed to possess such an ancient bloodline," Hel reassured me, reaching out with her good hand to wipe a tear from my cheek. "Naturally, you are a descendant of the Ljos-Alfar, or Bright-Elves of Alfheim."

"I what?!" I practically squeaked, and suddenly feeling dizzy, stumbled to my knees, not forgetting to cradle my broken wrist first. Hel laid her good hand on my shoulder, leaning on her cane with the other.

"Your true nature has been hidden from you for your protection, I assume," Hel went on. "The magical abilities you have been exhibiting as of late have been awoken by the consumption of the food of the gods, namely the Golden Apples of Youth."

"So it was the apples!" I murmured shakily. "Loki said it wasn't, but I suppose he lied."

"My father did not know the difference. He does not possess the power I do, and therefore saw only what everyone else saw." The Queen of the Dead took my chin in her hand and tilted my face up to look at her. Her one green eye so resembled Loki's that it took my breath away.

"So I'm an elf?" I whispered in awe, hardly daring to believe it.

"Indeed, and royalty as well if I'm not mistaken." Hel smiled. "But we shall speak more on this later. You have had a difficult journey, and you must see a healer about that wrist." I looked at my aching wrist and nodded. A terrible thought occurred to me.

"What sort of healer resides in the Land of the Dead?" I asked worriedly, remembering both the skeletal cloaked figures that stood sentry beside her throne and the terrifying shades that had surrounded me in the courtyard. Hel chuckled softly.

"Do not fear. Those that are here cannot harm you." Transferring her cane to her other side, she reached out of her cloak with a skeletal, rotting hand and pressed a bony fingertip to my forehead. Instantly it was like a veil was lifted from my eyes, and the most unusual thing happened.

The all but ruined dark hall was transformed, becoming brighter and resembling more closely the halls of Asgard. Hel remained the same, as did her guards, but the terrible sense of foreboding had gone. Getting back to my feet, I turned as footsteps sounded behind me.

"My Queen," a male voice called out, and a tall man with long, reddish-blond hair that was braided on either side of his bearded face knelt before Hel. "Ye called for an escort for our guest?" His voice was rough and deep and heavily accented, and his face was friendly. His blue eyes twinkled merrily at me.

"Indeed I did, Lukas," Hel responding kindly. "You may rise."

The man rose to his full height which was quite impressive, and I took in his apparel with curiosity. He wore leather breeches tucked into fur-lined boots and chain-mail armor over a long tunic made of animal skins and tied with a thick leather belt. A thick cloak with more fur over the shoulders hung past his knees.

"What be the matter, love?" Lukas asked, noticing my stare and grinning. "Haven' ye seen a Viking warrior before?"

"I, uh…" I managed feebly before Hel interrupted me.

"Lukas will take you to a healer and then show you to your chambers," she said to me. "We will meet again."

Remembering my manners, I bowed quickly and mumbled a thank you before following after the long strides of the tall Viking as he led me back out into the courtyard.

I was quite surprised to step out into a crowd of people.

"Whoa, where did they all come from?" I wondered aloud, earning a chuckle from Lukas at my right.

"They were here all along, lass," he replied, appraising me with amusement. "Or did ye think the Land o' th' Dead would be without its subjects?"

"But I didn't see them earlier," I argued at the same time as returning a polite nod to another woman. "Or is this a different courtyard?"

"'Tis the same courtyard ye walked through before. Ye jus' don' recognize them."

Looking around, I recalled the shadowy figures that had frightened me so much when I first entered the gates, and it dawned on me that these people were one and the same. I didn't have much time to dwell on it, for Lukas led me through another door into a passageway that led deep into the castle.

"'Tis not oft that th' living pass through our gates," Lukas said softly as my footsteps echoed on the flagstones and the wall-mounted torches flickered over his features and made his hair look like flames as well. "Nay, not without bringing some sor' of bad news."

"Oh?" I squeaked, suddenly feeling very small. Lukas didn't look at me as he continued.

"Makes me wonder what it means when one o' th' Ljos-Alfar arrive at our gates with greetings from th' God of Mischief." Now he did glance at me, suspicion on his features.

I had nothing to say to that, and luckily were spared the need to answer when Lukas ushered me into the healing room.

* * *

**Hello, sorry for the late chapter. I wanted to update yesterday but my school bus crashed and I fell through the glass window, so at the moment im in hospital. If you'd like to read what happened I'd be happy to PM you the news website. Happy reading everyone!~ **


	21. No longer

Octavia's POV:

The healer gave me a hot, bitter tea of sorts to drink before she set to work examining my wrist.

"To numb the pain," she explained softly, before bustling away for supplies. I sipped it and winced, but forced myself to swallow the whole thing. Lukas sat with me, but seemed restless, his eyes flicking back to the door over and over again.

"You don't have to stay here if you don't want to," I said at last, when his fidgeting was starting to wear on my nerves. My tongue felt heavy, and I blamed it on the strange concoction the healer had made me drink.

"My Queen told me not to leave your side," Lukas replied in a tone that left no room for argument.

"When did she say that?" I wondered, not recalling this particular order.

"Before ye arrived. She knew ye would be coming," he explained. "Apparently your companion told her soldiers all about your journey."

"My companion?" I repeated. "You mean Sleipnir?" My head felt fuzzy. The healer returned, smiling at me before beginning to remove the clumsy bandages from my wrist. Amazingly, I felt nothing. My whole body felt paralyzed. I'd be alarmed if I was not so drowsy.

"The very same." Lukas smirked. "He was very concerned about ye. He even begged Hel's soldiers t' bring ye here themselves, but being as how ye are not dead, they had not the power t' do so."

"How is he? How is Sleipnir?" The words came out slurred. The healer was setting my wrist, miraculously without pain.

"He's a demi-god's offspring, I imagine he's doing just fine," Lukas assured me. "They do not take so long t' heal as ye might think."

"So he's not here?" I felt fresh wave of disappointment.

"Nay, as soon as he was well enough to leave he planned to return to Asgard. Queen Hel sent a message with him for Prince Loki."

I nodded, too sleepy to question what sort of message, and laid my head back. The last thing I thought of before I drifted off was Loki's promise that he would return for me.

* * *

Loki pulled on the reins, slowing his mount, as he spotted a shape moving in the distance. It seemed to be getting closer. Narrowing his eyes, he realized that it was none other than his son, Sleipnir.

"Hya!" he called to his horse, spurring it forwards to meet with the eight-legged, dapple gray stallion.

"Mother!" The familiar voice rushed through the mind of the raven-haired prince, and his horse slowed as Sleipnir came trotting up beside him.

"Sleipnir," Loki greeted, relieved to see his son in one piece, at least mostly. "What happened to your leg? You're favouring it."

"Bilgesnipe attack," Sleipnir said gravelly. "We only just managed to avoid being trampled."

Loki felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Trembling, he gripped the reins tighter and forced himself to remain upright.

"What about the girl? Please tell me she is all right!" The panic in Loki's sea-green eyes touched Sleipnir's heart. If he could have smiled, he would have.

"She survived with nothing more than a broken wrist. I am certain she is in Helheim as we speak," the stallion reassured him.

Loki took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Of course Hel would take good care of her. His daughter had a naturally compassionate nature, a trait she definitely didn't get from either of her parents.

"Oh, that reminds me," Sleipnir continued, pawing uneasily at the ground and tossing his mane. "My sister had a message for you, Mother."

"A message?" Loki ran his fingers through his raven hair nervously. Hel didn't normally send messages to the outside world unless it was something incredibly important. Sleipnir nodded.

"She says you must not travel to Helheim, for the girl is no longer yours to collect."

* * *

**Short chapter, I now. **

**Anyway, I only have one more day in hospital and Ill be free! I'v done my waiting many days of it! In hospital! **

**Harry Potter? Ok no. **

**Thanks for all the Get well soons!:D I love you all! *Throws cookies* **


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